


All is well

by GoofyGomez



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Lots of joy, M/M, some tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-02 09:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 118,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19196344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGomez/pseuds/GoofyGomez
Summary: How do Harry and his friends cope after the Battle of Hogwarts? What becomes of Teddy Lupin, the orphaned godson of Harry Potter? This is my version of what could have happened after the final chapter of Deathly Hallows, covering the 19-year gap that there is between then and the epilogue. There will be love, hurt, weddings, angst, and drama. I hope you enjoy my story.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry James Potter lay on his old four-poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. It had been a hectic day, to say the least. Fatigue kept creeping at the edge of his awareness but the events of that evening had yet to sink in, and so his emerald green eyes scanned the ceiling as if waiting for a stimulant to move him from his reverie. Beside him, in his own bed, lay Ron Weasley, his best friend, snoring his troubles away. Harry felt a pang of regret when he thought that his friend had lost as much, if not more than him that night. He didn’t have any family left to lose, really, but his friend had stuck by him all those years and what had that got him? A dead brother and countless nightmare-worthy experiences. A particularly loud snort from his red-headed mate jerked his eyes from the ceiling beams. Lifting his glasses off his face, Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up straight.

A dazzling sun was weaving its way through the silk curtains of the window. Upon further inspection of the empty bedroom, he noticed small piles of clothes scattered across the floor. He was surprised to see Dean’s West Ham poster hanging lopsidedly from above one of the beds. Pieces of parchment lay on two of the nightstands, and on the last of these Harry could see the outline of a tall lanky redhead, snoring and drooling onto his pillow. The sight made him smile despite himself. Maybe he was overreacting?

He was not sure how long he sat there watching his friend sleep, pondering on bigger questions that, surprisingly, had just started creeping into his mind. How could the Weasleys ever forgive him? Would they resent him, just as much as he resented himself now? Would Ginny even want to look at him? The last one of these made his insides turn. He couldn’t such a fate would be possible. He knew everyone had been quite adamant on congratulating him mere hours ago, but he figured that had been the adrenaline of the darkest wizard of all time finally succumbing to his greatest fear: death. As he sat, blinking away stray tears, both fresh and old, he heard a faint knock on the door,

“Come in,” he muttered, without even glancing at who came in afterward. Soft steps broke the otherwise quiet atmosphere, if you didn’t take Ron’s overt display of fatigue into account.

He felt the pressure of someone sitting beside him on his bed and smelled that flowery scent that never failed to make his stomach do summersaults. At least she could approach him without launching herself at him.

“I figured you’d be moping here,” the voice of Ginny came from somewhere to his left. He heard himself snort in response and closed his eyes for a second, blinking back further tears from being shed.

When he turned in her direction, he saw for the first time in a long time, the face of the most beautiful witch he’d ever seen. He was probably somewhat biased, but this didn’t make it any less true. With a lurch, he noticed her freckled cheeks covered in a mixture of tear tracks, grime, and blood. Her chocolate eyes did not betray the smile that was etched on her lips. Harry sighed and said,

“Who said I was moping?” he thought he heard a faint chuckle, though he couldn’t be certain.

“I do,” said Ginny, her eyes scanning his features as though to make sure he was in his best health, with a stare worthy of the daughter of Molly Weasley.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he said lamely. His eyes, on the other hand, did betray his intentions and a faint glistening could be seen at the edge of them. Ginny’s features contorted in a face that clearly said _why do you think?_

“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” She sounded hurt, but given the circumstances in which they found themselves, he didn’t blame her, “I’m checking up on our saviour, can’t I do that?” Ginny said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as if she was testing the waters of a rather tumultuous sea.

“Well...” he said, suddenly finding an inordinate amount of interest in the billowing of the curtains, “I figured after this, you’d hate me. I’m the reason those people di-,” he started but was cut off by a flurry of red hair coming to rest mere inches from his face.

‘No! No, you’re not going to do this, Harry. All the people who died tonight, they died fighting for what they believed in. I am not going to let you try and take the blame for something you had absolutely no control over,” she stated calmly, the fire that were her eyes shooting a penetrating stare into his bright green ones, exuding as much annoyance as concern.

“How can you say that, though? I could have handed myself sooner. I was an idiot weighing my options while innocent people lay down their lives for my sake,” he replied. His shoulders slumped, defeated, and he buried his face in his hands.

“Harry...” Ginny started quietly, wrapping him in her embrace, “none of this is your fault, and we all wanted to fight that evil... creature for our freedom. This was war, for Merlin’s sake. Every single person that fought tonight knew the risks and will be remembered as heroes. Now please, look at me,” Ginny said, cupping his face in her hands. Harry looked up into those chocolate brown eyes and smiled despite himself.

“There you go,” Ginny smiled too, and leaning into him, pressed her lips softly to his. In spite of his initial surprise, they remained like that for several moments, the grief and sorrow of the world melting away, as if the only thing that mattered now was the two of them. They imprinted into that kiss all those months that they had been apart, and their longing for one another. This, of course, couldn’t last. They were interrupted by someone clearing his throat rather loudly. Upon breaking apart and looking toward the source, they saw a flushed Ron sitting up on his bed. Ginny shot him a reproachful glare and Ron thrust up his hands in defence, her ears turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you guys forgetting that you had company...” he trailed off, looking down at his lap and turning a deeper shade of red, threatening to match his bright orange hair.

“Er – Right, sorry,” Harry stuttered and sat up straighter, but looking positively more lifted than before.

“Yeah, um, I actually came up here to tell you that breakfast is being served in the Great Hall if you guys want some,” she rushed through the last and looked up at Harry expectantly, “you look like you haven’t slept in two days.”

Hearing this, Ron stood up and rushed out of the room; partly because he was hungry, but also because he didn’t want to see his sister and best friend getting too friendly in front of him. Harry then stood up, albeit slowly, and stretched the soreness out of his muscles.

“Well, that’s actually quite true. I haven’t slept since the night before the Gringotts incident,” he said, running his hands through his unruly hair and rubbing his eyes once more.

“Okay, let’s get you something to eat. Hopefully, there aren’t many reporters left,” she said exasperatedly, “I had to tell half a dozen of them off when they started asking where you had gone”

Harry chuckled and looked down at Ginny. He wrapped his arm around her and felt her squeeze him back. “Does this mean that you will... er, take me back?” he inquired tentatively. He had been dreading this since he came up to his room without talking to anyone. She looked back at him and, with a great smile and a kiss on his cheek said,

“Of course, Harry. Bold of you to assume I’d ever say no,” she added sheepishly. Harry sighed with relief, and the knot that had threatened to choke the air out of his lungs loosened. Together they made their way down to what would surely be a crowded Great Hall.

Five minutes later, after a silent and uneventful walk through smashed corridors, the young couple emerged to what Harry could have sworn was a stampede of wild Hippogriffs. Thunderous applause followed them as they made their way to where the whole Weasley clan was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table. Grateful that the applause died down quickly, Harry flopped himself onto one of the benches, with Ginny by his side, and began absentmindedly stacking a hefty breakfast onto his plate. As he ate, he looked around at the scene in front of him.

He could see families huddled close to one another, couples reacquainting after weeks, probably months of not seeing each other. He noticed that even though everyone displayed varying degrees of grief, the sense of happiness and relief seemed to outweigh all others. How, he thought, he didn’t know, but he felt as though a small weight of all that he had been carrying around for months on end seemed to vanish from his shoulders. As he pondered this, he felt a nudge from his side and focused on the redheaded family around him, looking at him expectantly.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Harry questioned them and frowned when their response was a fit of laughter. Even George seemed inclined to take solace in Harry’s innocence, if not for a second.

“No, it’s not that, dear. We were just wondering what you were planning on doing next,” Mrs. Weasley said, a smile on her face. Harry had a moment of profound respect for this woman, who was as much his adoptive mother and his family as anyone had ever been. Every single one of them had just lost either a brother or a son and here they were, asking him what he wanted to do now. Even so, he knew better than to voice his thoughts on the matter, so he settled for saying,

“Well, I’m not sure really,” he said truthfully. “I didn’t really intend on surviving this war...” he trailed off, looking at some point far away. The Weasleys all shared a look of disbelief at his words, but it was Mrs. Weasley who recovered the fastest.

“Harry, dear, how could you say that? Your plan worked wonderfully! That was some speech last night,” Mrs. Weasley looked on the verge of tears but had a smile etched on her face nonetheless.

“Yeah, about that...” he started, blushing, “my original plan for defeating Voldemort” - he saw most of them shudder on instinct -, “was to let him kill me. That’s how I ended up being carried by Hagrid from the forest...” Harry looked down at his food. How could he make them understand that he didn’t actually intend on going on from this point forward? The shocked faces on the Weasley clan were not helping with his blushing. Charlie was the one to speak this time, a knot apparently constricting his throat as he spoke.

“So, you’re saying what You-Kn- Voldemort said was true...?” he asked tentatively. Everyone seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Had he just said that he intended to die at the hands of his enemy?

“Not entirely. I wasn’t escaping, but he did use the Killing Curse on me... again,” he explained, trying to push back the memories of that fateful moment in the Forest. He tugged at his shirt and displayed for all of them to see a scar, resembling the one on his forehead, going from his upper abdomen to the base of his clavicle. He heard quite a few gasps and could feel Ginny’s grip on his left arm tighten.

“I found out, just before it happened, that the only way for him to die, if he was even possible of dying at that point, was for him to kill me.” Again, more gasps, and he could see a frown forming on Mr. Weasley’s face. “So, long story short, if we wanted any chance of defeating him, I had to die,” Harry concluded, casting looks at everyone around him. They all looked back at him dumbfounded by this new unexpected development.

“So ho- how are you alive?” Ginny said through teary eyes. Harry’s heart tightened. Ginny didn’t usually cry, let alone let it show in front of people. A couple of nods from the redheaded family showed they were wondering the same thing. He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.

“I’m not sure, really. When I was hit, I appeared in a sort of King’s Cross, but this one was purely white and completely empty. Dumbledore was there,” he explained, smiling despite himself. ‘And he explained that my mother’s love for me had once again saved me and that I now had a choice to come back to the world of the living. He wasn’t quite clear in his explanation, but then again when was Dumbledore ever straightforward?” he chuckled at the memory of his late Headmaster. This seemed to lighten the mood, as several other laughs ripped through the tense atmosphere that had formed.

“So, now I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I don’t have a place to live now. I’m not sure I’d want to use Grimmauld Place. Too many memories,” he sighed again. Mrs. Weasley looked positively abashed.

“Young man, you most certainly do have a place to live,” she exclaimed. “You will be coming home to the Burrow and will stay there for as long as you want.” She pulled him towards her and presented him with a Molly Weasley bear hug.

“Are – are you sure, Mrs. Weasley? I wouldn’t want to be a burden, you’ve done so much for me already,” he answered lamely. He didn’t really have much energy to argue.

“Harry, dear, how many times do we have to tell you? We are your family,” she beamed at him. He got vigorous nods from the rest of the Weasleys. “You have saved Arthur’s, Ginny’s and Ron’s life. Not to mention the Wizarding World, for Merlin’s sake! We are not taking no for an answer.” She gave him a look as if to challenge him to refuse the offer. He did no such thing. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Harry broke into a big smile and looked up at his mother, in every way but one, and said,

“Of course, Mrs. Weasley. I would love to live at the Burrow... for now.” He grinned sheepishly. “Thank you, for everything.” With that, he returned the hug to a startled and tearful Mrs. Weasley.

“You’re more than welcome, dear. Now, what say we head back home and relax? I daresay we, Harry especially, have earned that,” she announced and ushered the redheaded family out of their seats and practically shoved them into the Floo Network line. As more people went their separate ways into the fireplaces, Harry scanned their surroundings, as if to check that all survivors were accounted for in his mind. Once it was his turn, Harry took a good look around at the Great Hall and, with a smile, threw the powder into the green flames and shouted,

“The Burrow!”


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a month since the Battle of Hogwarts took place, and Harry had settled into a steady and quiet routine while living in the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had offered him Percy’s old room and shortly after the Battle, he had moved all his possessions to the small studio that was the room. Granted, he didn’t have that many possessions to begin with, but the thought was still there. He would spend most of his days playing two-on-two Quidditch with Ron, Ginny, and Charlie. The latter had come back from Romania for a while to accompany the family in what was surely the hardest time of their lives. If Harry wasn’t playing Quidditch, he could be found walking along the plains of Ottery St. Catchpole, usually in the company of a certain redheaded young witch. His relationship with this particular witch had started again the day of the Battle and had only improved. They could spend days on end talking and laying on the grass in th-

**THUMP**

His thoughts were interrupted when Ginny, the aforementioned witch, burst into his room and jumped onto him, jerking him awake.

“Good morning, Harry!” Ginny exclaimed with a bright smile and a peck on Harry's lips.

“Mhfm – Okay, I’m up,” Harry slurred groggily, squinting in the direction of a blur of red hair. He reached around her for his glasses and put them on.

“Ah, much better. Morning, Ginny,” he said, surer of himself this time, and leaned in to kiss his girlfriend. “What was that about anyway? I was dreaming of this gorgeous redhead and you woke me up,” he pouted and lay back on his pillow.

“I wanted to have breakfast with you, for one.” She laughed and lay next to him. “Plus, we said we’d go to Diagon Alley today and walk around,” she concluded as she threw his covers aside. Groaning, Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene in front of him. Ginny was standing by his bed, wearing an old Harpies shirt over black sleeping shorts. _She is breathtaking,_ he thought as he smirked and stretched the grogginess out of him.

“And what are you smiling at, Mr. Potter?” she inquired with an amused smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing much,” he said airily, “just thinking about how much more beautiful you seem to get every day.” He flashed a smile as he threw on a black polo shirt over his bare chest. _Where did that even come from?_ he thought, trying to remember the last time he’d ever sounded smooth in conversation. As he emerged from under the shirt, he saw her blushing and looking directly at him with a bemused expression.

“Aren’t you a flirt, Mr. Potter,” she exclaimed, playing with the hem of her shirt as she waited for him to get dressed. When he was done, they walked down the stairs hand in hand. As they sat down on the kitchen table, Mrs. Weasley was one step ahead of them and levitated two plates of eggs and bacon in front of them.

“Thanks, Mum!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley”

“You’re welcome, dears,” Mrs. Weasley said over her shoulder as she prepared breakfast for the rest of the family. “So, what plans did you have for the day?” she asked as the young couple dug into their eggs.

“Well, we were going to take a stroll up Diagon Alley. I haven’t really seen it since the Dark Times,” Harry said, shuddering at the thought. “Plus, I wanted to check if they’ve reopened some of the stores that were boarded up,” he added as an afterthought.

“That’s wonderful, dear,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed happily. “Will you be coming for lunch?”

“No Mum, we were thinking of having lunch at the Leaky Cauldron,” Ginny said through mouthfuls of bacon. Harry smiled at that. She was every bit Ron’s little sister.

“Very well.’ Mrs. Weasley frowned and then shook her head. “Well, have a nice time, kids.”

“See you, Mum!” Ginny said making her way to the fireplace.

“See you later, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said as he followed his girlfriend.

As Mrs. Weasley heard the muffled sounds of the young couple disappearing through the Network, she couldn’t help but smile. Her little girl was all grown up.

Harry and Ginny arrived at the Cauldron, sweeping the soot and grime from their clothes as they greeted the innkeeper Tom and made their way to the entrance. Once through the brick wall, Harry saw with relief that a little life had returned to the Alley. Shops were being reopened again, and people were bustling about as a bright sunny Saturday made its appearance. Walking slowly, he soon became aware that a quick stroll down the busiest magical street would require a Herculean effort, being Harry Potter.

Not ten paces had they walked that a small crowd had gathered around Harry and Ginny, asking questions or congratulating him in some way. With a sigh, he indulged them. After about ten minutes Harry forced his way through the crowd and led Ginny on the stroll he had promised her, giving small waves to people who would stare at him, eyes wide in shock.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” Ginny said at his side. When he looked at her, she had a smile on her face. “I knew full well what being with you would be like. This won’t die down for a couple years at the least,” she teased, at which he visibly groaned. With a final laugh, they set out again on the search for a somewhat normal date as boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Mind if we step into Gringotts for a second?” Harry asked her as they approached the immaculate marble structure in the middle of the Alley. “I haven’t got any money on me, and I’d like to buy you something nice.” He squeezed her close to him and led her to the white staircase.

“Why not? Not sure what you’re planning,” she said, squinting at him, “but I guess I can bear with you,” she declared, wrapping her arm around his waist.

He laughed and greeted the guard who opened the door for them. As he walked down the aisle, he got a flashback of two months previous, breaking into this same bank to get to Bellatrix’s vault and their spectacular exit through this same aisle. _They are probably not happy with me,_ Harry thought. As he approached the counter, a goblin with a stony expression opened the small window and greeted them.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. Welcome back to Gringotts Bank.” The goblin fixed Harry with a penetrating and emotionless stare. Harry thought he knew the reason, but decided it best to keep quiet about this, “My name is Kandak, how may I be of assistance?” he droned on in a fair imitation of Professor Binns. He probably wasn’t particularly happy about having to attend to the one person who had broken into their vaults barely two months before, but he didn’t seem inclined to challenge him about it either. For this, Harry was grateful.

“Er, hello. Good morning. I’d like to check the status of my vault and make a withdrawal, please?” he said the last as a question, tentatively checking whether he’d even be allowed to remain in their premises.

“Certainly. Right this way, if you please.” The goblin walked around the counter and directed the couple to a set of rails, where he pressed a hand to a lever. A minecart rolled its way to the group, and the goblin led the other two through a series of tunnels leading to Harry’s vault. When they got off, Ginny’s face displayed nausea and she swayed on the spot, waiting for the little goblin to open the door.

“You okay?” Harry whispered to Ginny as he watched.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” she answered, then stood up straighter.

To say that the vault was brimming with gold would have been an understatement. Towers of galleons lined the walls of the not-so-small vault. When Harry stepped forward, he heard a small “wow” from behind him and started to blush furiously. He hadn’t thought of how this was a basically telling Ginny ‘look how much more money I have than you’.

Cursing himself for being so stupid, he withdrew a substantial amount of galleons and poured it into Hagrid’s pouch. After locking the door, the goblin led the way back to the entrance of the shaft, and five minutes later, they were standing outside the doors of the Wizarding Bank. Harry shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet trying to explain that that had not been his intent at all. He was spared having to go through the ordeal when he heard Ginny laugh. He whirled around, looking at her with wide eyes.

“What’re you laughing at?”

“Nothing, it’s just funny how uncomfortable you got when we saw that huge behemoth of a vault,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I, um...” he ran his hand through his jet black hair and Ginny took his other hand.

“Don’t worry about it Harry,” she said kissing his cheek. “I know you’re rich. And I know it makes you uncomfortable to know that you have more than us. But you shouldn’t let it make you so. I’m not in it for the money, you know?” She winked at him and burst out laughing. Harry chuckled, not entirely reassured by it, but enough not to voice his concerns.

As they continued their walk down the Alley, the initial shock of having seen Harry Potter walking down the street had somewhat faded, so they were able to look into a number of stores, including Quality Quidditch Supplies. In the last, Harry had a sneaky talk with the clerk while Ginny was browsing the aisles. He deposited the money on the counter and went looking for the redheaded girl. After a full hour of “aahs” and “oohs”, mostly from Ginny, the couple made their way to the Leaky Cauldron so they could have lunch. Despite Harry’s protests, Tom insisted that the meal was on the house ‘for everything you’ve done for us, Mr. Potter, sir.’ Harry had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he accepted the deal and walked back onto the street for a final peek at the stores.

This turned out to be a total bust, Harry thought, as they were barraged by at least half a dozen reporters asking them all sorts of questions. “Is that your girlfriend, Mr. Potter?”, “What are your plans for your life now that You-Know-Who’s gone?” and “Is it true you’re getting married this summer, Mr. Potter?” were only some of the questions that Harry and Ginny had to endure for ten minutes before the former put a stop to it.

“Okay, calm down everyone. Yes, this is my girlfriend Ginny. No, we’re not getting married and I don’t know where you got that from. And, finally, I have no idea what I’m doing next, so for Merlin’s sake, will you please bugger off?” Harry told the reporters, who by the looks of it did not seem fazed by the outburst, but took the hint that they should not cross Harry Potter, and scampered off. All but a short blonde witch with a crocodile purse and a pair of glasses.

“Harry, if I may, I’d like to ask you some questions for Witch Weekly. You see, you’re something of a teen symbol now, boy,” Rita Skeeter said in her sweet fake voice as Harry shot her an expression that surely meant he would have rather fought Voldemort again than face her now.

“You...” Harry said in a quiet, deathly tone. “Have you not caused enough trouble for me in the past? Must you keep up with your charade?” he spat the question at her, which made her smile falter, but for a second, before she regained her composure.

“Surely Mr. Potter, this isn’t how you’d treat a witch now, would you? I’d have thought you would be a proper gentleman,” she practically sneered, her Quick-Notes Quill scrawling along on a piece of floating parchment. Harry heard Ginny snort loudly at the last remark. He took a step forward and looked into those hateful eyes.

“I would suggest, Rita, that you take that quill of yours and stick it where the sunlight won’t find it,” Harry retorted, ever so quietly. At this, Skeeter actually did a double take. “Otherwise, I’d have to let slip a tiny little secret to the world, now would I?” Harry raised his eyebrow ever so slightly as if challenging her to come back with a snide remark.

“You wouldn’t,” she hissed, looking around to see if someone would hear them.

“Oh I would,” Harry said, standing up straighter and letting a small smile break his quiet resolve, “and if you know what’s good for you, you would stay away from me and my family for as long as you can. Is that understood?”

He saw Rita squint at him and then slump her shoulders in defeat, “Ys,” she mumbled, not daring to meet his gaze. Again, a snort could be heard from Harry’s immediate left.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Harry said, louder this time, cupping a hand to his ear.

“I understand,” Skeeter said through clenched teeth. This seemed to please Harry, as he wrapped his arm around Ginny and led her to the fireplace. As they both disappeared through the green flames, they could see Rita Skeeter visibly pout as she looked around.

Once inside The Burrow’s living room, Harry burst out laughing and sat down on the couch to catch his breath. Ginny seemed to find this more amusing than the scene that unfolded not two minutes ago and soon joined him in mad cackling. After a couple of wheezy breaths, Ginny sat up straighter and looked at the raven-haired man in front of her,

“What was that “little secret” thing about?” she asked cocking her head to the side, “have you got dirt on Skeeter?” she inquired, her eyes widening.

After regaining composure, Harry wiped a tear away and looked back at her, “you could say that. Do you remember in my fourth and fifth years how she used to come up with all these ridiculous stories about me?” he asked, a grimace replacing his grin.

“Yeah?” she answered, shuddering at the memory.

“Well, Hermione figured how she was getting her information and blackmailed her into writing that interview I did for the Quibbler,” he explained. “Turns out she was and still is I guess, an unregistered animagus. A beetle in fact,” he concluded with a smirk.

“Wow, really? So she would just turn into a beetle and listen in to others’ conversations? That’s low, even for her,” Ginny said, scrunching her nose at the thought of a beetle with a tiny quill.

“That’s not the best part though,” Harry commented, the smirk returning to his face. “Hermione then trapped her into a jar and made her swear she wouldn’t print any lies for a whole year after that,” Harry explained, now unable to control the small fits of laughter that were threatening to burst out.

“Only a year?” Ginny asked incredulously, “had it been me, I’d have made her quit her career altogether!” she declared, frowning through the small smile forming on her lips.

“Yeah well, you know Hermione.” Harry shrugged. “She’s too nice for her own good,” he concluded

“Not as nice as you, letting her off with a warning,’ she smiled as she approached him and curled up on his lap

“What can I say? I’m too nice a bloke.” He shrugged, warranting a playful slap on the shoulder and a kiss on the lips. After everything they’d lost, everyone they’d lost, this summer would be the perfect way to start the healing process of those scars. Those scars that run deeper and are less visible than a certain lightening shaped one...


	3. Chapter 3

Harry opened his eyes to the dazzling sun threatening with burning a hole through his eyelids. Blinking rapidly, he slumped forwards and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. As the room swam into focus, he remembered something. Whirling around on the calendar stuck to the wall as if by magic, he noticed the date: June 14th. His shoulders fell as he thought of what was to come. Today was Fred’s funeral, and he would be accompanying Ginny and her family, his family, through the mourning process.

Looking to his left, he remembered something else. Ginny had spent the night curled in his arms and silently crying as Harry soothed her with soft words. A pang of sadness threatened to knock him off his feet as he thought of how useless he had felt the previous evening, trying fruitlessly to make his girlfriend feel better about the prospect of burying her brother. His silent musings were brought to a halt when he noticed Ginny looking at him with a sad smile on her face.

“You need to stop doing that, Harry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Sitting up and taking in the haunted look of her boyfriend's eyes.

“I’m sorry, Gin. I can’t help it.” His head fell and he felt a pair of slender arms encircling his waist. “You know, I thought I was supposed to comfort you today,” he said, smiling despite himself. He heard a raspy chuckle from his left and a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t you worry yourself about it,” she whispered, as she stood up and walked quietly to the door, “see you in twenty minutes at breakfast,” and with a blown kiss, she swept up to her room.

Harry stood quietly dressing and, taking a big breath, made his way downstairs where Molly Weasley already stood making breakfast.

“Morning Mrs. Weasley,” he said, making her jump a bit.

“Good morning, dear,” she smiled sweetly through a sad visage. The sight made Harry feel the guilt that had gnawed at him that fateful day of the Battle, but taking Ginny advice in mind, he pushed the thoughts aside and forced a small smile back at the grieving woman.

Breakfast at the Burrow, uncharacteristically so, was a subdued affair that morning. The only words spoken were the “Good morning” of every riser as they too took their seats and helped themselves to bacon and eggs. Harry couldn’t help but notice that George seemed pale as a sheet, not daring to utter a word in fear that he would open a door he’d never be able to close. He felt an extreme surge of sympathy for his surrogate brother. He was about to say his final farewell to his other half, basically.

Never having had a real family, Harry could only hope to even understand what George, and the rest of the Weasleys for that matter, was going through. The closest he had been to such a situation had been the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, but even then he had only known the man for two years. Fred had been George’s other half for twenty years of mischief and laughter. To have that ripped out from under your feet must produce a feeling akin to losing a limb. When George met his eye, Harry produced a sad smile that he hoped conveyed the regret that he felt for the man sitting in front of him. A small flare flashed in the twin’s eyes as he examined Harry’s features. But, just as fast as it came, his resolve crumbled and with a nod, George directed his attention to his untouched breakfast.

“Well, Weasleys, off we go,” Mr. Weasley was instructing at the edge of the yard where they would Apparate to the small church that would host the ceremony. As Harry saw the redheaded family nod and Apparate away, he noticed the patriarch stay behind and beckon for him to approach him. Apprehensively, he took stood before his surrogate father. A sad smile was etched on his face as he said,

“Harry, I just wanted to thank you for all the support that you have been giving our family in these difficult times. Especially Ginny.” He looked at the blushing eighteen-year-old with a knowing smile. “I really mean it, Harry. I just wanted to ask that you look after her today. I trust that you share my concern for her emotional wellbeing,” he finished clapping his hand to Harry’s shoulder.

“Of course, sir. I’ll do whatever I can to make Ginny feel better,” Harry answered, swelling with a new wave of respect for the man in front of him. Was he also giving him his blessing to date his daughter? Harry knew that Arthur was privy to whatever Molly had seen in the gardens during the past month, but he hadn’t really knowingly brought it to the attention of the older man. Mr. Weasley seemed to read his mind, however, and smiled wider still.

“Don’t worry, Harry. I know full well of your relationship with my daughter,” he started, taking in Harry reaction, “I also know that you are one of the finest young men I have ever met, and would not think to suggest Ginny find someone better than you. As I said, you’ve always been part of the family, son.” With that, he offered his hand to the young man, who took it awkwardly.

“Thank you, Mr. Weas- Arthur,” he finished with a smile. “I think we should get going. They will think we stayed behind.”

With that, both men Apparated to where the rest of the Weasley clan was waiting in front of the little church. The trooped in solemnly and took their seats at the front of the chapel, where a closed casket was set and a minister welcomed the family. The rest of the service passed in a flurry of Weasley siblings retelling memories of their brothers’ mischievous activities, along with their partner in crime, Lee Jordan. When it seemed that no one had any more energy to remember anything, Harry noticed George standing slowly up and walking to the podium in front of the small audience. He cleared his throat to speak for the first time in a long time. His voice came out raspy at first but quickly recovered.

“Good afternoon. Thank you so much for coming today. I just want to read to you something that Fred and I decided on before the Battle.” His voice almost broke at the mention of his deceased twin, but he ploughed on with a Herculean effort. “When we knew a final confrontation was coming, we knew the risks. Everyone did. And so, to that end, we decided to write a letter in case something happened.” His eyes were now glistening as he pulled a piece of parchment from his jacket. Mrs. Weasley let out a small whimper and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. The man gave his son a nod, and George continued, clearing his throat:

“ _Dear family,_

_If you guys are reading this, I probably didn’t survive the Battle. I’m sorry I won’t be there to celebrate the victory with you. Yes, Harry, I know for a fact you will pull through for us all. But I take solace in knowing that I hopefully died doing something stupid and heroic._

_Mum and Dad, I love you guys with all my heart. I know George and I don’t say it often, but I hope you know it. You’ve been an amazing inspiration for us, and I will miss you dearly._

_Percy, you and I never saw eye to eye on everything, but at the end of the day, you’re still my brother. Even though you’re a twat, I still love you. Keep being the best twat in the world._

_Charlie. I daresay, you’re even more of a wildcard than George and I, and we always appreciated your daring and bravado. I hope you don’t lose that adventurous spark and keep finding cool activities to scare Mum’s apron off._

_Bill, the adult of the family. Even though you were the oldest of the litter, you still found time to spend with all of us, which must not have been an easy task. I’ll always appreciate all the lessons you taught George and me._

_Ron. Who would’ve guessed you’d end up helping Harry freaking Potter defeat the Dark Lord? Despite George and my teasing, you always pulled through and were the brother and friend we all needed._

_Ginny. You always were the wildest of them all, huh? I’m pretty sure it was your stubbornness and encouragement that made us so sure we could accomplish our goal of opening Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and for that George and I are thankful._

_George, my better half. I know we always talked about dying at the age of a hundred and fifty, having conquered the joke shop business, but sometimes, plans don’t work out. Now you’ll have to live to three hundred for the both of us, but I know you’re so clever you’ll figure out a way to make it happen. You always were the smarter twin, while I was the better-looking one._

_I only ask one thing of you, Weasleys: don’t mourn me, but laugh and snort at my memory. I don’t want to be remembered with tears, but with joy. The same joy Forge and I felt every time we pulled a great prank on one of you guys. I will see you again someday, but hopefully, that won’t happen for a while now._

_Harry... Take care of the Weasleys for me, will you?_

_Love, Gred_ ”

When George was finished, you would have been lucky to find a dry eye in the entire room. At Fred’s final request, some of the Weasleys smiled instinctively at each other and nodded in understanding. As people gathered and clapped solemnly, George stepped off the dais and made his way to his parents. With a sad smile etched on his face, he embraced them in a bear hug that would have made Molly Weasley proud. After that, every sibling got a taste of Georges hugs. When George came up to Harry, a small amount of that mischievous glint from before the Battle returned to his eyes, he embraced the startled man with a force that almost blew the air out of his lungs. Harry returned the pressure in kind, and heard a faint whisper in his ear,

“Thank you, Harry. Gred would have been proud of you, mate,” he whispered in Harry’s ear, before breaking the embrace and standing in a circle of redheads. “How about we take this party home, eh!” George said, louder this time, and clapped his hands, leading the group through the doors.

Once back at the Burrow, the young witches and wizards assembled themselves on chairs in the front porch of the house, exchanging stories of their younger days, and bantering with each other. Harry found this all extremely comforting, as they were honouring their brother’s last wish to perfection. This elated sensation, however, didn’t extend into the next morning, as Harry jolted up on his bed after a nightmare. He was covered in sweat, and even though they were blurry, he could make out the whirlpool his thrashing had caused on the covers. A soothing voice whispered into his ear from his left, and Harry felt his breathing slow until he calmed down,

“Sorry, Gin. I guess I’m not really over those just yet,” he apologized, rubbing his eyes and reaching for his glasses.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you. Always.” She kissed his cheek and sat up straight on the bed. “Now, want to talk about it?” she inquired, in a tone that didn’t leave much room for a negative response. He sighed and related to her the feeling of loneliness he had felt, the dread that he would push those affected by the war from him. That green flash of light had not yet left his worst nightmares. Ginny sat silently listening and gasping as his words sunk in.

“Well, for one, you know that you will never push us from you. You’re stuck with us, Harry.” She tried a humorous approach, which seemed to work as a fair amount of tension left his shoulders. “I know you probably don’t want to tell me...” she said tentatively. At that, Harry looked at her and saw apprehension on her face, “but would you be willing to tell me about this past year?” She almost blurted out the last in one breath, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t take offence in her request. To her surprise, he sighed and slowly nodded. Sitting cross-legged, he began the retelling of their journey, starting from the Death Eater attack at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

He started with the milder side of the story, retelling some of the more low key things they lived through while on the run. He sighed, and with a smile told her,

“I would look at the Marauder’s Map every night, just to check that you were safe. Sometimes I would talk to you - or the dot that represented you - telling you that I missed you and that I hoped to see you soon,” he said, while Ginny’s eyes misted over. She had wondered all year if he had ever thought about her. She smiled through her tears and nodded for him to continue. He drew a breath and told her about the more dangerous activities of his last year.

As he retold their adventures, Ginny listened quietly and looked into his green eyes with rapt attention. She gasped at the mention of their finding the locket to be in possession of Dolores Umbridge, and inquired for the first time, “but what you haven’t told me yet is what exactly you guys were looking for,” she furrowed her brow in confusion, trying to determine how a stupid locket could have any significance in defeating the darkest wizard of all time. With another apprehensive sigh, he nodded, and explained,

“Remember in my sixth year, how I had regular meetings with Dumbledore?” she nodded, and he explained, “Well, in those meetings he showed me memories. Memories of those who knew Voldemort, when he was still Tom Riddle. The aim of this was to collect as much information on how Voldemort thought, and eventually we found a great piece of the puzzle solved by a memory from Slughorn,” Ginny frowned at the memory of the Potions Professor and beckoned for Harry to continue. “It turns out, Voldemort had found out about some very powerful dark magic, called a Horcrux. This essentially lets you put a piece of your soul into a container, so you essentially become immortal if you can protect it well enough.” Comprehension was beginning to dawn on Ginny’s face, but she didn’t dare interrupt Harry in what was probably the first time he had opened up about the War. Taking a deep breath, Harry continued, “Voldemort though, being the ambitious git that he was, decided that one Horcrux wasn’t enough, and so made seven.”

“Hold on, how do you make this Horcrux thing?” her face a mask of concern.

“To make one you must commit an act of pure evil. You must commit murder,” he said dully, looking at her in the eye. When she gasped, he took the cue to continue with his story, “Dumbledore and I knew from watching the memories that he had a knack for collecting trophies, especially from possessions of the Four Founders of Hogwarts. And so, my mission from Dumbledore was to find the remaining Horcruxes to bring an end to Tom Riddle,” he finished, looking expectantly at Ginny, who frowned, processing the new information.

“What did he use for those Horcruxes?” she inquired, looking back up at him.

“Well, there was the locket of Slytherin, which we destroyed with the sword. Dumbledore also used the sword to destroy a ring that belonged to Salazar too. Then, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, which was what we were actually looking for in Gringotts, the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, and Nagini, his snake,” he diverted his gaze and looked down at his hands. After a few moments, Ginny looked back up frowning.

“Wait, those are five,” she said squinting, “what were the other two?” the questioned him. Harry felt his resolve falter and, with a sigh, explained,

“One of the others was the diary of Tom Riddle. The one that possessed you in your first year...” At that, she gasped and clutched the covers to her chest, a look of utter horror plastered on her face. He knew she would not take this mildly, so he had avoided mentioning it.

“Yeah. Voldemort actually only intended on making six, but something went wrong, and he created an accidental seventh one the night he killed my parents,” he closed his eyes and prepared for the worst. “Me.”

Harry couldn’t even voice a complaint as Ginny launched herself at him and hung onto him for dear life, as if by doing this she would absorb whatever evil still remained in him. Silent tears were flowing down her cheeks and he made an effort not to cry as he brought her face to his.

“Ginny, it’s okay. That part of Voldemort is gone, for good,” he assured her, but she still wasn’t convinced. After just a moment’s thought, her eyes went wide and fresh tears threatened to break surface with her eyes.

“Th – That’s why you went into the forest?” her voice barely above a whisper, fearing the worst. He sighed and nodded,

“Yes. I had to let him kill me in the end, but it didn’t have the desired effect,” he finished, grinning. She was not so amused.

“So, you willingly stood in the face of death, knowing you wouldn’t see us again?” her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you say goodbye? You could have explained... I thought you were dead, Harry!”

“Don’t you think I wanted to, Gin?” His eyes betrayed the confidence he was struggling to portray, “I saw you in the Great Hall as I made my way to the forest. I saw you comforting a little girl, and I wanted nothing more than to call out to you. That you would stop me,” he was looking directly at her now, “I know for a fact that if I had tried to even talk to you, I wouldn’t have done it. I couldn’t have. You were the only thing on my mind; the only thought that made me sure that I had to die, was that you would live in the end. When you screamed my name I wanted to open my eyes and assure you I was fine. But I couldn’t, he needed to think I was dead. We couldn’t have won any other way...” he trailed off, as though looking through her.

With the force of a hurricane, Ginny hugged him again, and whispered into his shoulder, “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry you had to live through that. I’m sorry...” she looked up into the bright green eyes of the man that had saved her. The man that had quite literally died for her. The man of her childhood dreams.

“I love you,” she whispered, staring into his eyes, brown into green, with a fire that had only intensified since their first kiss.

Harry was startled, to say the least. With a pang of hurt, he noticed something. He had never been said those words. He had never heard anyone tell him that they liked him, let alone love. He felt as though he could produce the brightest Patronus at the moment. Pressing her lips against his in a passionate kiss, he looked back at her and whispered, with a smile on his face,

“I love you too, Gin.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

The Thursday before his birthday, Harry found himself sitting at the desk of Percy’s old room; his own now. Early evening loomed upon the room as thin silver tendrils moonlight started creeping their way into the dimly lit studio. A single candle shone on the surface of Harry’s desk. A letter hung loosely off the edge and Harry could make out its content as he prepared his response, quill in hand.

_‘Dear Harry,_

_I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I just wanted to apologize for my behaviour towards you. I was also hoping you would agree to meet me at our place when you get the chance. I know I probably don’t deserve it, but it would mean a lot to me if you could. Send your answer through Miss. Figgs, and she’ll relay the message._

_Sincerely,_

_Dudley’_

The barn owl carrying the letter had interrupted Harry’s nap as he pecked at his nose. The contents of the piece of parchment attached to its leg were more surprising, however. Harry had realised a couple of things as he read through the letter, pinching himself as if trying to wake up from a dream. Firstly, he noticed he hadn’t spared a moment’s thought about the Dursleys since his seventeenth birthday, almost a year ago. He hadn’t even known they had come back from hiding. The latter hadn’t really come as a surprise, as the war had ended over almost three months ago.

Secondly, he saw the sincerity in his cousin’s words; something he had never thought could be a possibility, considering the words being employed. Harry knew his cousin had changed, if at least a little bit, since his acknowledgement of the fact that he ‘wasn’t a waste of space’, as his parents had put it. Could it be possible that that had been a turning point in his overly large cousin?

Ginny had a less than pleasant view of the matter. Some very colourful swear words ensued from her mouth as she took the letter from Harry’s hand. Anger and indignation were only some of the emotions flaring in her eyes as she expressed her disgust at the thought of even acknowledging Dudley’s letter, and her desire to use the parchment to help light the hearth.

As Harry listened to his girlfriend rant, his thoughts seemed to be taking a mind of their own. He knew right down to his core that Dudley had been a nightmare to him for most of his life, especially after learning of Harry‘s ability to perform magic. Nonetheless, he couldn’t push the nagging thought that these people were actually his only remaining family. One of the last, if distant, links to his parents. Upon voicing this particular concern, Ginny rounded on him, indignant.

“What are you talking about, Harry? We are a better family to you than they ever were to you,” she began to take deep breaths as she settled in a chair, intently staring incredulously at her boyfriend. Surely, he couldn’t be serious about accepting the invitation?

“I know, Gin,” he defended himself, smiling at the fierceness with which she presented her rather logical arguments, “but this is not the same. You wouldn’t understand, because you have always known your family. These people are my last remaining blood relatives. One of the only links to my mother...” he said finished lamely, looking down at his hands.

Ginny felt her resolve falter at the pained expression on Harry’s face, conceding that what he was saying was true. She had never known anything other than a loving family, while Harry had always been shunned because of his abilities.

“I just feel that I have to at least try and make peace with them, you know?” he looked up at her, the glistening of the corners of his eyes not escaping Ginny’s notice. _Cheap move, Potter,_ she thought reluctantly. “If not for my benefit, for my mother’s. I know she would have wanted to make amends with Aunt Petunia for their childhood quells,” he concluded, a plea in his eyes. He had already battled his thoughts on his own. He didn’t want to go through the ordeal again with Ginny.

Ginny sighed deeply, looking back at him. She knew there was no changing his mind. “Fine, I guess I can see your point, Harry.” She smiled and approached his slumped form. “Just remember that your family, your _real_ family, will always love you. No matter what,” she said, kissing him deeply. The lingering effect of that kiss flooded Harry with a warmth that bore into him pleasantly.

Now, that warmth had dissipated, replaced with a sense of confusion. What would he say to his cousin? Would he be able to face him, after everything that had happened? After a few minutes’ thought, Harry dipped his quill into the ink bottle and scribbled a quick response, addressed to Arabella Figgs.

‘ _Dear Dudley,_

_I would be glad to. Meet me on July 28 th at Number 4 Privet Drive. 5 o’clock._

_Hope you’re well,_

_Harry’_

After showing his answer to Ginny, who reluctantly told him it was okay, Harry tied the small piece of parchment to the leg of the barn owl. It had stared intently at the dark-haired man, waiting for a response. Harry stared at the retreating owl in the night sky, thinking about what he might say to his cousin on July 28th.

As he stared at his breakfast, two days later, Harry thought that maybe he hadn’t given himself that much time to ponder the ramifications of his reunion with his family. Molly knew of his plans for the afternoon and so had insisted he be well fed. If not to get some extra energy for the meeting, he could show his uncles that their abuse on his eating habits had been dealt with. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the defensiveness with which Mrs. Weasley voiced this concern with him. He knew she was almost as appalled by his treatment from his family as Ginny. He smiled at the thought.

At ten to five, Harry stood at the border of the Burrow’s wards, looking over the pond at the retreating sun in the horizon. He smelled Ginny’s flowery scent to his left and, without turning, said,

“Hey, love.”

“How’d you know I was here?” she inquired, “I could have sworn I didn’t make any noise.”

“Your smell,” he said simply.

At this, Ginny frowned and looked at him. “You’re saying I smell?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

Harry chuckled as he put an arm over Ginny shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “No, of course not, Gin.” He smiled down at her, “You just have a flowery smell that drives me crazy,” he said airily, looking back at his previous sight. He ignored Ginny’s playful slap of his arm as she blushed.

“Aren’t you a flirt, Harry,” she said, unable to contain her smile. A thought occurred to her, and she looked expectantly at Harry. “Would you mind if I came with you to meet Dudley?” she almost frowned at the name of Harry’s cousin.

Harry seemed to weigh this for a few seconds before turning to her, “If you want to, I have no objections. Uncle Vernon might, though,” he added as an afterthought.

Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” she smirked as she played with her wand in her hand.

Despite his obvious grin, Harry said, “I would appreciate if you didn’t hex them while we’re there. Making amends rarely comes accompanied by Bat-Boogeys in the eyes of the muggles.” He kissed her softly, seeing her smirk drop. He glanced at his watch; a present from Arthur and Molly for his seventeenth birthday.

“Ready?” he asked, presenting his arm to her.

Taking his arm in hers, she prepared for the characteristic suffocating sensation of Apparition. “Ready.”

And with a faint ‘pop’, they were gone.

Moments later, the couple appeared as if from thin air in front of Arabella Figg’s front yard. Grateful that not a single muggle was in sight, and cursing himself for not thinking about that before, Harry led Ginny towards the immaculately kept front yard of Number 4 Privet Drive. With an apprehensive sigh, Harry knocked and stood to wait for an answer.

Not two minutes had passed when a figure appeared at the door, embracing Harry in a bone-crushing hug. Startled, Harry looked at the face of the man standing in front of him with a grin on his face and almost gasped. It was Dudley Dursley.

Harry surveyed his cousin thoroughly, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. His previously morbidly obese cousin now stood in front of him with a slightly swollen belly and chest. Harry presumed Dudley must have lost at least 100 pounds since he last saw him. His characteristic pig-like nose decorated the top of a smile that formed on Dudley’s lips. Harry noticed with astonishment that his cousin’s usually well kept blond hair now lay tousled, with a slight resemblance to Bill’s long red locks.

“Du – Dudley?” he stammered, “Is that you?” he asked in disbelief.

Dudley seemed to understand the apprehension his cousin was feeling, having felt the same thing a couple of times through the last year. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and said,

“Of course, Harry. Come in, come in.” He stood to the side, making room for the startled couple to enter. It was at that moment that Dudley noticed the pretty redhead standing beside his cousin. For a second, he studied her features with a frown, until he realised where he knew her from,

“You must be Ginny, right?” he asked politely, further startling the redhead in question.

“And how do you know who I am?” she asked, rather indignant. She was still wary of the fact that this man had caused Harry so much distress.

“From the papers, of course.” He beamed as he led them through to the sitting room, where a stunned Uncle Vernon and a squinting Aunt Petunia sat. They didn’t seem to have undergone the drastic change that befell their son. “You guys were all over the paper this past year, leading the rebellion at Hogwarts and all.” He offered a seat to the couple before assuming his position on the couch opposite them. The two adults in the room stood silently watching the exchange.

“Er, Duds?” Harry asked, confusion still evident on his face. “What do you mean, the paper?”

“The _Daily Prophet_ of course,” he declared with a smile. “Mr. Diggle would show us every piece of news concerning you guys, Harry mostly, and kept us informed of the situation of the war.” At the mention of the wizarding newspaper, Uncle Vernon flinched but said nothing. Harry noticed them for the first time and turned his gaze to them. “Hello Uncle, Aunt Petunia,” he said, trying to keep the astonishment from his voice as he swallowed this news.

While Uncle Vernon grunted his acknowledgement, Aunt Petunia seemed unsure of what to do at being addressed by Harry. After a few moments, she finally settled for a polite smile, followed by a nod. While this pleasantly surprised Harry, Ginny was less than impressed.

“You haven’t seen him in a year, while he was saving your skin, and that’s all you can do?” she asked indignantly.

“It’s okay, Gin,” he whispered to her, who glared at him. Uncle Vernon seemed to disagree on that regard.

“How dare you address us in that manner in our own home? What are you even doing here, boy? I thought we got rid of you last time we saw you,” he growled, a vein threatening to pop somewhere in the multiple layers of his neck.

“If you must know, Dudley here invited me, to catch up, I assume?” he directed the question at his cousin, who cocked his head and slowly nodded, “And I decided to bring Ginny, my girlfriend, so she could meet you guys,” he said slowly. He was starting to regret having brought Ginny along for the ride. One magical person at a time was more than Uncle Vernon could handle.

“That doesn’t mean you can...” he started, but was cut off by none other than his own son, who was glaring at him.

“Dad, if you won’t be supportive or constructive, I suggest you just shut it. I invited them because I wanted to know how they were after the war,” he explained, turning his gaze to the magical couple in front of him, “and to say I’m sorry to you, Harry. I know it doesn’t change my behaviour towards you, but I hope you understand that I was a complete prat. I want to start a clean sheet with you, maybe even keep in touch from now on?” he asked hopefully.

To say that Harry was stunned was an understatement. He knew that was the reason for the invitation, but to hear it from his cousin, with such genuine remorse in his voice, rendered him speechless. This, however, did not extend to the fiery redhead sitting beside him, who was squinting at the blond man in sitting in front of them. She remained calm, choosing her words carefully to honour Harry request

“And why should he give you the chance? You treated him like less than dirt for sixteen years while he suffered who knows what other atrocities at school, and now you beg for forgiveness?” Her anger was getting hard to keep in check, but she remained steadfastly seated beside Harry, who seemed to be recovering from the initial shock.

“I forgive you,” Harry’s voice came to them as barely above a whisper, but in Ginny’s ears, he may as well have shouted it gleefully.

“What? How can you...” she was cut off by Harry, who started to get a better grip of his emotions and his body.

“I know what you mean, Gin. I understand where you come from, I do, but you don’t know Duds like I do,” he was now looking at his cousin, the latter watching the exchange silently and clasping his hands on his lap. “I know he is truly sorry now. I can see it in his face, and his voice.” At that, Dudley seemed to lighten up, strengthened by his cousin’s confidence.

“Plus,” he added with a smile to his girlfriend, “I picked up some Legilimency from my connection with Voldemort,” he finished, winking at Ginny. She chuckled softly and visibly relaxed some, still wary of the presence of the elder Dursleys in the room.

“Thank you, Harry,” Dudley sighed as he lifted his hand to Harry, who gracefully took it. “I know it must be hard to trust me, you know, considering. This war has changed me; for the better, I’d like to think.” He added proudly, glancing at his parents as he did.

“That it has, Big D,” Harry said, smiling at his cousin’s slight blush at the mention of his old nickname. “You look a lot better now, too,” he added, to save his cousin further embarrassment.

“120 pounds,” Dudley announced, straightening up, letting his slimmer form show, “Not quite a skinny bloke like you now, mind you, but a year in hiding in a wizard’s secluded house can do that to you,” he finished wistfully.

“That’s great Duds, I’m proud of you,” Harry said, smiling despite himself. As he checked the clock on the mantelpiece, he noticed it was nearly 6 o’clock. Remembering his promise to Molly to be back for dinner, he stood up.

“We really should get going now,” he said, smiling at Ginny, who wrapped her arm around his waist. “It was really great to catch up with you, Duds,” he added, shaking his cousin’s hand.

“Right back at you, Harry. I hope you consider keeping in touch with me,” he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“I would love to,’ he saw his cousin beam at him as a thought occurred to him. “You know, if you want, you could come to the Burrow for my birthday. It would mean a lot to me if you were there.”

Dudley seemed to consider the possible jibe at him for a moment. When none was forthcoming, he smiled and nodded intently, “I’d be delighted to,” he said as a thought occurred to him. “Um, I don’t know where that is,” he added smiling ruefully.

Harry chuckled and clapped his slightly less robust cousin on the shoulder. “I will send you the details if you’d like. Otherwise, I can just come here on the 31st and take you with me,” he offered, noticing the increased pressure on the arm that was being held by Ginny. She appeared to not be about making her opinion on this matter heard.

“I’ll think about it, and I’ll owl you my response,” the taller man said, startling Harry and Ginny with the casual use of wizard lingo.

As the young couple stepped through the threshold, they both waved back at Dudley, who was standing at the doorway, his parents a little ways behind him in the hallway. With a final nod, Harry and Ginny disappeared with a ‘pop’ and left a startled Dudley waving at nothing, wide-eyed. He never got used to wizards doing that.

Back at the Burrow, Ginny was starting to shake off her initial outburst and thought about what he had witnessed at the Dursley’s. Harry’s uncles had been less than amicable towards him, and he took it in his stride. She wasn’t happy about the fact that her boyfriend could just shrug something like that off, but she put up a good face for Harry’s sake, most of the time...

What had really gotten her attention was the obvious surprise from Harry at seeing his cousin act in a civilised manner towards him and Harry’s acceptance of his apology. To top it all, he had invited him to his birthday. As the couple made their way into the kitchen to Molly’s spectacular dinner filling the plates, Ginny sighed and looked at Harry.

He was mistreated for basically his whole life and was still trying to make amends with his relatives, even if it was for the sake of his mother’s memory. A surge of respect and love for the man in front of her swelled her heart, and they spent a pleasant dinner with her parents, making short work of Molly’s cooking prowess. Ginny was content.


	5. Chapter 5

“Happy birthday Harry!” Ginny’s scream woke Harry to a blurry face surrounded by fiery red hair. She readily launched herself at his prone figure, showering his face with kisses. After a startled few moments, Harry steadily lost his grogginess and, through the blur that was his poor vision reached for her collar. He pulled her to a deep kiss that spread warmth through his entire body and effectively stopped her barrage of smaller kisses. When they came up for air, Harry reached for his glasses and turned to a bright smile speckled with freckles staring intently at him.

“Morning, Gin,” he grinned sheepishly.

“Morning, my love.” She threw her arms around him once more, sighing deeply in content.

“My love? A little sappy for us, don’t you think?” He smirked at her mock outrage, kissing her again before sitting fully up.

“Prat,” she said, standing up to give him room to start getting dressed. She shuffled uncomfortably on the spot as she saw his bare chest. She blushed at the sight, but couldn’t seem to pry her eyes away from him. She seemed transfixed by the lightning-shaped scar that ran from the top of his abdomen to his collarbone. It seemed to fit in with his previous scar, located on his forehead, and Ginny couldn’t help but realise the sad reality of that.

When he finally covered himself with an old Chuddley Cannons shirt that Ron had outgrown, she found herself the object of similar scrutiny.

“My eyes are up here, you know?” he chuckled as he pulled on some socks and trainers.

Blushing a deeper shade of red that almost matched her fiery hair, she smiled at him and held out her hand to lead him to the living room. The couple then walked hand in hand into a very busy kitchen. Molly Weasley moved frantically from one side of the kitchen to the other, muttering instructions to herself. Mr. Weasley sat at the table, a mug of tea in one hand and a copy of today’s _Daily Prophet_ in the other. As they sat down, treating themselves to another amazing breakfast, Arthur looked up and smiled at the kids.

“Morning, you two. Happy birthday Harry,” he said with a nod and a slight lift of his mug.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Harry replied in between servings. He felt extremely hungry for some reason, and he wasn’t going to pass on a Molly Weasley breakfast.

“Happy birthday, dear,” Molly called from over her shoulder as she noticed the two teenagers devouring her food. She smiled at him as he gulped down a third serving.

“Thanks, Molly. This is truly amazing,” he exclaimed, gaining a vigorous nod from Ginny.

“It’s no big deal, dears. I’m happy to cook for you. The house is not the same with so many sons moving on with their lives,” she added wistfully before returning to her chores. The Weasleys were hosting a small party for their guest of honour today, and she intended to pull out all of the stops.

As breakfast drew to a close, Harry and Ginny retreated to the living room, where they snuggled on a couch in front of the unlit hearth. They stayed like that talking about nothing and everything at the same time, without noticing the scrutiny they were being subject to from the doorway.

As Arthur walked back into the kitchen, he beckoned his wife over to him and silently pointed to the middle of the living room, a smile etched on his face. Tears began to flow steadily from Molly’s eyes, as she took in the sight in front of her. Harry and her daughter were talking and looking at each other with a fierce love in both their eyes.

“They really are serious, you gather?” she asked her husband, who had been watching the exchange between the young man he considered his son and his only daughter.

“I don’t think I’ve seen two people look at each other like that since, well, us,” he added sheepishly before continuing, “they are really serious about each other, and considering the troubled lives they have endured, that is a marvellous feat,” he couldn’t keep the smile from faltering as both parents noticed they were being watched back by an amused Harry and Ginny, both with raised eyebrows. His smile came back, though, when Ginny turned and gently kissed his boyfriend, who replied in kind if a little apprehensive.

“Let’s give those two some privacy before the guests show up,” he said finally, herding his wife to the other side of the kitchen.

By mid-afternoon, a great number of guests had begun to appear in the front yard of the Burrow. The garden had been covered in a white marquee, with small tables filled with platters of snacks flanking a common area for mingling.

Harry watched in amusement how many people had shown up for his birthday celebration. He could see most of the surviving members of Dumbledore’s Army, excluding Zacharias Smith, who had excused himself with an urgent family matter. As more people showed up, Harry noticed with shock that most of the faculty of Hogwarts were mingling with each other, seemingly oblivious to the fact that their previous students were basically gawking at their nonchalance. He was moved out of his reverie when Minerva McGonagall stepped up to him, bearing an uncharacteristic smile.

“Happy birthday, Harry. Everything looks wonderful,” she said sweetly, peering at him over her glasses, all trace of sternness gone from her face.

Harry had been taken aback by the use of his first name by his Transfiguration teacher but recovered easily with a smile.

“Thank you, Professor. I’m glad you could come today,” he said, offering her a glass of pumpkin juice.

“Oh I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she exclaimed, beaming at him and taking the glass, “James and Lily would be very proud of the young man you have become,” she added, tears threatening to break surface with her eyes, “Actually Harry, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Her demeanour became professional suddenly.

“Certainly, Professor. What is it?” he asked, intrigued as to the nature of the incoming talk.

“I wanted to extend an offer to you,” she said. Harry nodded for her to go on, “Would you like to return to Hogwarts to complete your seventh year?” she asked, a hopeful tone in her voice.

Harry considered this for a moment. He knew he wanted to become an Auror, and he knew the qualifications he needed for such a job. He didn’t want to be handed the position just because he was The Boy Who Lived or the Man Who Defeated Voldemort. Besides, he couldn’t really ignore the fact that one whole year with Ginny at school had more than a little allure for him. Finally, he made a decision and looked back at his professor, a smile on his face.

“Yes, Professor. I’d really love that,” he said excitedly.

McGonagall was positively beaming. “Marvellous. Now, for my offer.” Her demeanour shifted again, “I would like to offer you a position as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. As we have only been able to find a teacher for the fourth year and above, as her scheduling issues won’t allow for more. You would be taking on the responsibility of the first through third years,” she explained, a smile creeping into her stern face, “I thought since you’d have to only take three NEWTs, you might consider this offer,” she added hopefully.

Harry was gobsmacked. He was being offered a position as a teacher, a job he had actually considered when he prepared Dumbledore’s Army. He weighed his options and looked up at his professor, frowning,

“Wait a minute. I thought I needed Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and DADA NEWTs to apply for Auror training,” he said, clearly confused, “why would I have only three exams?”

McGonagall laughed at this and looked down at Harry, “Harry. I think we both know your DADA NEWT has already been settled this past year while you were on the run, don’t we?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Harry, you have shown a mastery of the Defence Against the Dark Arts that most wizards would only dream of. I daresay you could walk in blindfolded for your exam and still manage an Outstanding,” she explained, smiling at the wide-eyed teenager in front of her, “I think we can speak with the Minister for an arrangement to be made in your situation,” she finished, waiting for his response.

Harry was startled, but not surprised at this development. He knew he could probably pass the exam with all the experience he had had in his life, but to have it confirmed by his Head of House was a great compliment. He thought hard about the implications of taking on such responsibilities and smiled as he made up his mind.

“I would love to, Professor,” he exclaimed, beaming, “just as long as it is only for this year, as I will be joining the Aurors next June,” he finished apologetically.

McGonagall seemed to think about this arrangement and thought better than to argue. This was as good as she would get, and she wouldn’t walk away empty handed. She nodded.

“Done. Welcome aboard, Professor Potter,” she said, grinning from ear to ear

With a beaming smile, she excused herself. Harry was then left to think about what had just happened and decided to drift among the guests, visiting with certain people he hadn’t seen since the Battle. He was startled to see Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, among the crowd. When he noticed Harry looking at him, he beamed and made his way to the young man.

“Harry, my boy!” boomed Kingsley’s deep voice as he shook hands with Harry, “Happy birthday, Harry.”

“Thank you, Minister, I didn’t know you’d be coming today,” he gave the dark-skinned man a lopsided grin.

“Nonsense, I couldn’t miss a friend’s birthday party. Especially not yours,” he boomed before adding, “and between you and me, it’s Kingsley. We are friends first and foremost, regardless of the position I hold.”

Harry nodded and looked back at Kingsley, and question on his face, “Kingsley, I was wondering if Professor McGonagall had talked to you about the arrangement she would like to make about my coming exams?” he asked, looking at the man expectantly. To his surprise, Kingsley broke into a smile.

“Of course, Harry,” he exclaimed, clapping his shoulder, “as of tomorrow, you will be the proud owner of an Outstanding certificate in Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT,” he said

“You already discussed this?” Harry was baffled but tried to keep his surprise to a minimum.

“Yes, we have. I take it you have accepted her remarkable offer for this coming term?” he asked tentatively.

Harry nodded and smiled, “As a matter of fact, Kingsley, I have,” he announced proudly.

“Good man. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I am a busy man.” He laughed before presenting his hand again.

Harry nodded and shook the Minister’s hand once more before resuming his activity of visiting with guests. He had expressly asked Molly that no one give him any presents, claiming that we had everything he could ever hope for, and expressed his desire that the request be printed on the invitations. Most of the guests had obliged grudgingly, but to Harry’s chagrin, all the Weasleys seemed to have turned deaf ears on his one condition. As the evening wore on and the guests made their farewells, the entire Weasley clan, plus Harry and Hermione, gathered in the living room waiting for the gift giving to commence.

From Bill and Fleur, he received two leather-bound tomes on Defence Against the Dark Arts, and a small wink from Bill. Harry wondered if he knew something about the job he had accepted that same day, or if he just thought he really needed to defend himself against dark forces again. He decided he’d rather it be the former, but he didn’t voice his concerns as he opened another gift.

Charlie presented Harry with a set of boots and gloves made out of dragon hide. Apparently, the magic in them kept you warm enough to endure any temperature. He thanked him, thinking about what a cosy Christmas he would have this year.

George and Percy gave him a collection of Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes products and a brand new eagle quill, with two large ink bottles to complement it. Three guesses as to who got him which present.

Ron got him a broom servicing kit, and a bunch of chocolate frogs, Harry’s favourites. The simplicity and predictability of his best friend’s gift was a welcome sight. Many things were changing, and he welcomed more mundane traditions to stay the way they were.

Hermione went for her specialty, handing him three muggle novels on adventure. According to her, she had read them a lot when she was little and had always loved the stories muggles came up with. With a hug, he thanked her for the gift.

He smiled as Arthur and Molly produced a rectangular box from behind them and handed it to Harry with smiles on their faces. Harry thought it looked like the boxes that contained wands and hoped a joke wand was not forthcoming. As he opened the box and peered inside, his breath caught in his throat and he gasped.

Looking up at him from the top of a slightly elongated clock needle was his own face, smiling up at him. As the Harry in the picture gave him a wink, the real Harry began to feel his eyes misting over as tears flowed from his eyes. He picked it up from the casing and examined it. It looked to be exactly like those in the Grandfather clock the Weasleys had in the living room to know of their family’s whereabouts. Harry couldn’t believe what they were doing. They were basically offering him a place of honour as a Weasley. As he looked up at Molly and Arthur, he stood up and promptly hugged them both, tears still flowing from his eyes as he muttered, “thank you.” He wondered for a moment just how much they understood the significance of what they had just done.

After many “thank yous” and hugs, Harry and Ginny retired to Harry’s room, as the rest of the family went to their respective homes or bedrooms. As Ginny closed the door behind her, glad that Harry was not crying anymore, she said, “I’m assuming you’re wondering where your gift from me is?”

Harry was smiling despite himself as he approached Ginny, and embraced her, “It’s okay Gin. You didn’t really have to get me anything. Being with you is more than enough,” he added, kissing the top of her head.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, turning around and pulling out her wand. Pointing it at the door, she muttered “ _Muffliato_ ” and turned back to a wide-eyed Harry.

“Where did you learn that spell?” he asked quietly, wondering why on earth she would need such a spell.

“Hermione taught it to me,” she shrugged as she threw her arms around Harry and kissed him passionately. “I wanted tonight to be extra special, and my family walking in would have been a mood killer,” she grinned now, beckoning for him to follow her to the bed on the side of the room.

Harry was too shocked to even argue and followed her, slightly open-mouthed until she stopped and sat him down, “I love you, Harry. I want you to know just how much,” she whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Sudden comprehension dawned on Harry’s face as he blushed and whispered back, “Ginny...”

He couldn’t finish his thought, and Ginny’s lips were on his, a smouldering fire in her eyes as they lay back on the bed. Without another word, the couple drowned in desire as their instincts took over. Harry’s mind felt blank as he kissed Ginny, his Ginny, and sank deeper into each kiss. He knew he loved her and that she loved him, and the loss for thought at that precise moment was a complete and utter confirmation of that fact. As they both became one, Harry whispered into her ear, “I love you, Gin.” She smiled to herself and showed him rather than said to him just how much she loved him back.

The following morning found Harry waking up to a dazzling sun bursting through the window and hitting him square in the face. He rubbed the sleep off his eyes and reached for his glasses, before realising that he already had them on. Why had he slept with his glasses on? As he looked to his left he saw with wide eyes the naked figure of Ginny, her chest slowly rising and falling as she slept deeply. _Ah, that’s why,_ he thought as memories of last night flooded his mind. Try as he might, he was not able to wipe the smile off his face as he gently prodded Ginny on the shoulder and whispered, “Gin, wake up, love.”

Ginny stirred for a moment before her eyes fluttered open, bright green eyes flooding her vision, as sleepiness readily left her body. “Good morning, Harry,” she said, kissing him gently as she sat up. When she noticed her lack up garments she pulled the covers up to her chest. Harry decided to pretend he had not seen that and started dressing rather slowly.

A thought occurred to Harry as we put on his pants and looked back at Ginny, who was propped up on her elbow, “Um, Ginny?” he asked.

“Yes, Harry?” she answered, smiling despite herself.

“Should you really be here at this time of day?” he inquired uncertainly. While he appreciated the gift he had received last night, he wasn’t looking forward to explaining why Ginny lay naked on his bed should Ron or her parents walk in. _Mostly Ron, though..._

Ginny picked up on his embarrassment and laughed softly, before starting the ordeal of dressing herself, “Don’t you think I’d check before I could do this, Harry?” she inquired, an eyebrow rising as she expected a reaction. She was not disappointed when Harry looked at her in panic.

“You mean, that they all know that you...” he trailed off, seemingly lost in her chocolate brown eyes.

This time Ginny laughed out loud before answering, “Of course not, but my mum knows. I kind of asked her for permission...” It was her time to blush as she recalled her talk with her mother.

“But what would happen if, say, Ron walked in?” his panic starting to rise again. He wasn’t about to reveal to his best mate what he and Ginny had done, as the possibility for limb loss escalated.

“Ron can think whatever he wants. I’m a big girl, thank you very much, and I don’t need my big brother protecting me from myself,” she exclaimed exasperatedly as she rolled her eyes and pulled on her top.

“Yeah, it wasn’t you I was worried about in that regard...” he looked down and shuffled his feet.

“Don’t you worry about my brother, Harry,” she said as she planted a kiss on his forehead. “Now, let’s go down for breakfast. I’m starving,” she declared, opening the door and leading him downstairs.

Thankfully, Ron was nowhere to be seen as they exited the room, and Harry sighed in relief as he saw his best mate seeming to inhale his breakfast. He also saw Hermione curled in a couch in the corner, reading a book. When she spotted the couple she gave Ginny a knowing smile and winked at a startled Harry. Ron didn’t even seem to notice when the couple joined him at the table. When Molly greeted them, Ron finally lifted his head and eyed Harry and Ginny suspiciously. Harry was starting to feel nervous under the scrutiny until salvation came in the form of a tawny owl carrying a letter. He quickly opened the envelope addressed to him, and frowned as he read it.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Ginny from her chair, looking concerned at the expression on Harry’s face.

“It’s an official letter from Gringotts,” he explained as he read it over again. “They would like to meet with me to discuss ‘further development in my bank statements’, whatever that might mean,” he furrowed his brow, thinking what could have caused his so-called development.

“You should go, mate,” offered Ron in between servings, “They don’t take kindly to people refusing their summons, those goblins.”

“He’s right. You should go as soon as you can,” pitched Hermione. Ginny, however, looked apprehensive.

“Want me to come with you?” she asked, putting a hand on his arm from across the table.

“Sure, Gin. We can go tomorrow if you don’t mind?” he said.

“It’s a date,” she said, beaming. “We can take a stroll down Diagon Alley and have lunch at the Cauldron”

Harry actually smiled at the prospect of a quiet day with just Ginny. Putting down the letter, he scrawled his affirmative response and went back to ravishing his second helping of bacon and eggs.


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, Harry sat at the kitchen table rapidly devouring Mrs. Weasley’s amazing cooking. Ginny had already finished and sat in awe as she watched her boyfriend finish a third serving of bacon.

“Geez, Harry. You’ll make yourself sick at this point,” Ginny said, half concerned, half amused.

As Harry gulped down the last of his tea he looked at Ginny and smiled, “I’m done. Wanna get going?” he said as he sat up. Ginny shook her head and followed suit.

Harry and Ginny made their way to the fireplace, and within ten minutes were being welcomed inside Gringotts Wizarding Bank. They walked straight to a desk, where a goblin sat doing some sort of paperwork. Harry coughed and the goblin looked up, noticing the lightning scar.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. The door on the left, if you please,” he said in an almost bored tone. They followed his instructions and stood behind the door.

The couple looked at each other and knocked on the door to the left before trooping in. A small office held a tiny desk and two chairs in front of the goblin that had taken Harry to his vault previously, Kandak.

“Mr. Potter,” he said as a statement, “I trust you had a pleasant birthday?” he asked, not unkindly. Harry was taken aback by the sudden amicability of the goblin. He blinked before sitting down and saying,

“Yes, I did. Thank you,” he looked around and noticed the office bore no proof that anyone worked here other than the desk. The walls were bare, bearing a pale crimson colour. “I think you had something you needed to tell me about my statements?” he asked, still confused about what that might mean.

“Yes, of course,” said Kandak as he produced a rather large piece of parchment and set it on the desk between them, facing himself. “As you must already know, you were left a small fortune by your parents, which you discovered at the age of eleven, am I correct?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” Although _small_ is not the word he would have used.

“Very well,” he said as he placed a small brass key on the table. “You are probably also aware that your godfather, Sirius Black, left you the entire Black family fortune. This, of course, comes with the gold, jewellery, and estates linked with said fortune.”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry. He didn’t actually know what the Black family fortune entailed, just that the Blacks were a very wealthy family. He hadn’t even known there were properties attached to it.

Kandak again placed a second key next to the other, this one much more ornate than the first, made out of silver.

“What you have not been made aware, however, is that your parents didn’t only have that small fortune for you, Mr. Potter,” said Kandak as he placed a third key, much like the second, next to the other two. “You see, the Potters were a very wealthy family as well, and James Potter being the sole heir got it all. Now, seeing as you are his sole heir and are now officially of age, the rest of the Potter family fortune will be transferred to your vault,” he finished, before waving his hand over the keys. To Harry and Ginny’s astonishment, all three keys hovered over the table and started merging, finally forming a single key. This one was definitely made out of gold, with complicated patterns strewn across it. “Now, it is my honour to present to you the final key that will hold all of this, all in one enclosed space,” he picked up the key and stretched over the desk to present it to Harry.

Harry, astonished, took the key and inspected it. It was indeed gold; kind of heavy, but not uncomfortably so. As he grasped what Kandak had just informed him he had a thought,

“How – How much is there?” He was afraid to even know the figure. He was never that bright at math, but he knew that the word fortune was not used lightly by goblins.

At this, Kandak unrolled the parchment he had pulled out earlier and placed it on the table, facing Harry and Ginny. It was a long list of statements and estate names. At the bottom, however, lay in curled cursive the words ‘Total sum’. When he looked at the number to the right, he nearly stood up from the shock. It was well into the hundreds of millions of galleons. He thought it might be a mistake, but some quick math looking at the numbers above confirmed it.

“This is... this is too much money,” he said lamely, barely daring to look at Ginny. He knew she would be aware of his wealth, but this is way beyond any of their expectative.

“I do agree, sir,” said Kandak, chuckling softly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a goblin laugh. “As you stand now, you are now the biggest single account Gringotts has the pleasure to house,” he said the last smiling. This was probably a great accomplishment for them, or at least so Harry thought.

Harry turned to his girlfriend, who was stunned, still looking at the figure at the bottom of the parchment. “Can you believe it?” he asked her, apprehension tainting his voice.

To his surprise Ginny beamed at him and nodded, “I knew Sirius had a lot of money, but this is extraordinary,” she mused, looking over the rest of the parchment. “Look, you even have a couple of lands. One of them is in Ottery St. Catchpole,” she exclaimed excitedly. He nodded, still dazed by the situation he now faced. Surely he was not supposed to keep all of this money? But who would he give it to anyway, if he wanted to? Harry thought about this for a moment before sighing. “I’m not sure I want this money,” he said.

Ginny looked as though she had just been slapped, “Harry, what do you mean?” she asked, thinking he was playing some game.

“All this money represents is that I don’t have my parents or Sirius anymore.” He sighed again, looking down at the parchment. Kandak was watching the exchange without much interest, but he said nothing.

Ginny thought she understood, but then a thought occurred to her. “Okay, I know what you mean. But let’s look at it this way,” she said and smiled when Harry looked hopefully at her, jumping at any chance of direction as to what to do with this money.

“First, they wanted you to have it. There’s no way around it, and it really would help you in your life... our life,” she smiled and held up her hand when he was about to protest. “I know you won’t need all of it. I quite agree it’s too much. So here’s my idea...” she started explaining some of the ideas that occurred to her off the top of her head, while Harry seemed to liven up and even contribute with some ideas himself.

“You can’t deny that you of all people deserve this, and with all that we are planning, you could even do a whole world of good with it too,” Ginny concluded, beaming at her boyfriend.

“I guess you’re right,” he conceded. Hell, he knew she was right, but that didn’t make the prospect of accepting this obscene amount of money. He sighed and looked at Ginny, who was staring at him intently. “Okay, we’ll use it for good, and keep some on the side for our future,” he finished.

Ginny was startled that he had used the word our, but that didn’t make her any less happy about it. They worked the details with Kandak for about two hours, before realising that lunchtime was almost over. Harry stood up, taking Ginny’s hand. He reached over the desk and shook Kandak’s hand.

“Thank you very much, Kandak, I appreciate your efforts, and look forward to working with you in the future.” He smiled as the goblin nodded and handed him the key once more.

“You’re more than welcome, Mr. Potter. Would you like to see the vault before you head out?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry looked at Ginny and shrugged. Surely a couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt their appetite. They nodded and followed the tiny goblin out the door and down a staircase. Harry noticed that he wasn’t being led to where the mine carts usually departed until they arrived at a raised platform. Kandak stood in the middle and extended his hand. When he saw the apprehension in the faces of the teenagers he said,

“Your vault is the most secure, Mr. Potter. Mere minecarts are insufficient. You can Apparate to the door at any given time, as long as you’re within this platform,” he explained, gesturing to the big circle he now stood in, “this time, I will lead the way.”

They both took Kandak’s hand and felt a tug at their navel as they reappeared in front of a very ornate silver door. The sheer amount of magic almost knocked them off their feet, until Kandak raised his hand and the feeling left their bodies.

“You will be able to determine who will have access to this Apparition point, and only you,” the goblin informed him.

Harry nodded and made a mental note to include all the Weasleys plus Hermione into the security details. When Kandak opened the vault, Harry and Ginny felt their jaws drop as the sheer bright lights the glints of the galleons clouded their vision. Mountains upon mountains of gold stood before them. A rather expensive looking set of jewellery boxes stood on a bench, sporting gold and silver necklaces and the sort. He looked up and around and estimated that the vault must have been about the size of two Quidditch pitches. The thought alone scared him. They decided they had seen enough and headed out, lead by Kandak.

Twenty minutes later, Ginny and Harry were enjoying a late lunch at the Cauldron in a secluded booth, as they quietly discussed all the good things they would use the money for. As Harry watched Ginny talk about it, he realised he needed to do something for her for staying with him through all this. Just then, an idea occurred to him, and the more he thought about it, the more he liked it.

That night, Harry stood in front of the whole Weasley clan plus Hermione, a broad smile on his face as he was about to embark on the first act towards their plans. Everyone was looking expectantly at him. Bill looked the most relaxed, along with Ginny. Harry drew a breath and started.

“Okay, so as you all know I went with Ginny today to Gringotts.” They nodded and he continued, ‘the reason for this was that they were showing me my total sum of savings.” He let the first sink in. Ron chuckled and answered first.

“Harry, we know you’re rich.” Everyone laughed at this as Harry blushed. “What’s that got to do with us?”

“Everything,” he said, noticing as he did that everyone inched forwards on their seats, “Ginny and I found out that I am the owner of the largest and most expensive vault in Gringotts.” He saw the stunned wide-eyed expressions and grinned, “or rather, we are.”

Before anyone could ask what he meant, Harry produced from inside his robes nine golden keys and gave everyone a piece. He stood silently waiting for the information to sink in. Fortunately for him, Mr. Weasley recovered quickly.

“Harry, we can’t possibly accept this,” he started before Harry cut him off with a big grin.

“You can, and you will.” He raised his hands to quell any objections, “Look, I have more than enough money for twenty lifetimes, quite literally, and I know that I won’t even use a fraction of it. But I wanted to show my appreciation for all that you guys have done for me over the last seven years.” He saw a couple of grins on their faces before continuing.

“I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for each and every one of you. Yes, even you, Percy.” He smiled as Percy showed a face full of confusion. “It’s the least I could do with all that I have been given, and I will more than happily assist you on the process of getting into the vault.”

The Weasleys seemed to consider this offer, looking at each other nervously. Finally, Mr. Weasley sighed and looked at Harry.

“Let’s say we were to accept this offer,” he said tentatively, “how much money are you talking about here?”

Harry grinned and blushed slightly as he spoke, “Around 850 million galleons...” His voice had been barely above a whisper, but the Weasleys caught every single syllable.

A chorus of shocked “WHAT” followed wide eyes and piercing stares. He finally sighed after they calmed down and explained.

“I know, I told you it was a lot. That was a combination of the Potter and the Black inheritance, plus the initial money that my parents left for me for when I turned eleven.” He drew a breath and moved on, “you are the most generous people I have ever met. And I’m serious about it. I know for a fact that this money will help you achieve anything you set out. I just wanted to make sure that you had the means of doing so.”

They all stood in silence for a few minutes, most of the Weasleys eying either Harry or their respective keys. Finally, Mrs. Weasley stood and embraced Harry with such force that he feared a few ribs might have been broken. “I don’t know what this family has done to deserve such a generous young man to join us,” she said through sniffles.

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you guys,” he replied, grinning. This seemed to relieve the tension, and everyone started talking about all the things they could do with the money. Charlie, unsurprisingly, wanted to start a colony of dragons in England. Harry was happy that they had accepted readily and even joined into some conversations to explain the details of the entrance to the vault.

The weeks following the vault discovery turned into a routine rather quickly, as Harry and Ginny spent almost no time apart, either talking or just enjoying each other’s company. Ginny’s birthday was a much more subdued affair than Harry’s had been, and for that she was grateful. She had received many beautiful gifts, including a silver necklace from Harry, taken from the newly renamed Burrow Family Vault. Harry was pleasantly surprised that, while money was not a problem now for the Weasley family, the gifts that they composed for Ginny were given to her from the heart, rather than their pockets. He had known this would happen, obviously. The Weasleys would never be changed by money, even if it did ease their lives considerably.

As mid-August approached Harry, Ginny and Hermione were pleasantly surprised that their Hogwarts letters had arrived, and they set upon themselves the task of going into Diagon Alley to buy their new school supplies. Hermione was also surprised, even if the rest were not, to see that she had been named Head Girl. Everyone was extremely proud of her; more so when they were informed that the Head Boy position had been given to none other than Neville Longbottom. Harry had not even known that Neville would be going back to school, but he realised that the previous year had not been a very educational experience for his friend.

Hermione looked crestfallen upon learning that Ron was adamant in not returning to school, and would rather help George at the joke shop. Obviously, she understood why he was doing it, but it didn’t make it any less painful. Harry and Ginny were glad that they would be seeing much more of each other, now without the presence of Mrs. Weasley around them. A fire burned in Ginny’s eyes as Harry mentioned this, and she had to be reminded that they were not yet at Hogwarts.

To celebrate their last year, plus Hermione’s Head Girl status, the teenagers had organised an impromptu little party at the Burrow. Harry stood in the middle of the living room, waving his wand in complicated patterns as ornaments and party decorations filled the room around him. With a swish of his wand, he charmed a bottle of firewhisky to fill out their glasses when empty, but to limit them to five drinks each. Molly wouldn’t appreciate her daughter getting drunk under her roof.

As Ginny stood at the doorway watching Harry work, she frowned and realised something. Something she hadn’t realised until now, even though she and Harry had been inseparable all summer. She stepped up to Harry, who smiled at her and kissed her.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Harry, how long has it been since you’ve had to say a spell out loud?” asked Ginny, wondering if she already knew the answer.

Harry was taken aback, but obliged and thought about the question. In fact, he couldn’t remember having uttered as spell all summer, or all of May, or...

“The last spell I ever spoke out loud was _Expelliarmus_ when I used it on Voldemort,” he said, frowning.

“You have been casting spells non-verbally for four months now?” she asked incredulously.

“I guess so,” he mused, looking at the charmed decorations he had produced. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t even thought about a spell when enchanting the decorations. He just pictured them doing what each was now doing, and they had. It was as if it had been second nature to Harry. He decided not to mention this last piece of information to Ginny just now, as he knew who might hold the answers he was starting to formulate. Ginny seemed to read his thoughts.

“Dumbledore,” they said in unison, bursting in a fit of laughter as they tested the extent of Harry’s abilities on a couple of small objects. The results were amusing, to say the least. Ginny had a thought and turned to Harry.

“What if you try and produce a Patronus?” she asked, “I read that spell is almost impossible to produce properly non-verbally.”

Harry nodded and pushed the memory of Ginny saying “I love you” to him for the first time to the front of his consciousness. Thinking _Expecto Patronum_ Harry saw with amazement as a silver stag erupted from the tip of his wand. The silvery animal trotted around the room, passing through the wall into the kitchen beyond and returning through another wall. With a small bow to Harry, it disappeared into nothing.

Then a bewildered Hermione came bustling out of the kitchen, looking wide-eyed at Harry.

“Why did you produce a Patronus now?” she sounded worried.

“Harry and I just discovered that he hasn’t had to utter a spell at all since defeating Voldemort. We just tested it on the Patronus.” She beamed at Hermione and back at Harry.

Hermione chuckled softly and looked at Harry. “Very funny, Ginny. Everyone knows a corporeal Patronus must be said verbally to fully form,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend and turned to her boyfriend. “Show her,” she said.

Harry nodded, and thinking of the same memory, produced another silver stag that pranced around the room, coming to rest in front of Harry. Another bow was followed by the disappearance and left in Harry’s field of vision a wide-eyed Hermione. At that moment, she reminded Harry of the house-elves of Hogwarts.

“How – How is that possible...?” she stammered and she stared at where the stag had been a minute ago.

Harry shrugged as he sat down, Ginny sitting on his lap instinctively. “Dunno, Hermione. You’re the brains of our little team, remember?” he said, grinning, “I only know that I can do it,” he finished with another shrug.

“How can you shrug it off so easily?” she asked bewildered. “You need to talk to someone about this.”

“I will. As soon as we arrive at Hogwarts I will request to have a chat with Dumbledore. Perhaps Professor McGonagall might be able to help too,” he mused, mostly to himself.

“I’m very proud of you, Harry. Even if you don’t even know how you do it,” said Ginny, chuckling as she kissed him. This made a blushing Hermione effectively leave the room.

The following evening, Harry and Ginny lay in bed, snuggling each other. This was their last night before departing for Hogwarts, for the last time as students. It was a big step, they realised. They also realised that they would not be at the Burrow until Christmas, they decided to make the best of it. As they kissed deeply and Ginny looked at Harry with smouldering eyes, he reached with his hand pointing at the door and thought _Muffliato_. What happened next made him fail to realise that he had not even used his wand, as it now lay immobile on the desk at the other side of the room. Right now, he didn’t really care.


	7. Chapter 7

Ten o’clock rolled around on the Burrow, and Harry Potter lay wide awake. He had awoken over an hour ago; whether from excitement or something else, he couldn’t tell. He knew they must be getting up soon, as they only had an hour until the Hogwarts Express departed. He got up and quickly dressed in casual attire. After checking his and Ginny’s belongings were in order he prodded her shoulder gently, “Gin, wake up, sweetheart. We’re gonna be late,” he whispered.

Ginny stirred and promptly opened her eyes. She had also been awake for some time but had refrained from moving so as not to wake Harry. He had been having nightmares, and tonight had been no exception. While not the huge ordeal that they had been at the time, the mumbling had woken Ginny up a number of times in the night. He didn’t even seem to have noticed as he kissed her and smiled. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” she mumbled, starting to get dressed as well.

Ten minutes later, the couple was making their way downstairs for breakfast. While Ginny was excited to be going back and ending her school career, she would have been hard-pressed to be more so than Harry. He seemed to have gained a great amount of energy the past week, having been preparing his syllabus for his DADA classes almost non-stop. Ginny knew he was nervous about teaching young students; she had no doubt in his ability to perform excellently. It seemed his excitement was contagious, as Ginny and Hermione both relaxed after breakfast, and they all walked to the Ministry car. The car ride was short and quiet. The three of them were still rubbing sleep off their faces as the car pulled over at the parking lot in King’s Cross.

Once through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, the scarlet steam engine billowed in front of them. As they slowly walked through the crowd, which was almost completely silent in the presence of their saviour, Harry noticed that a short dark-haired girl, in particular, was trying to get his attention. He furrowed his brow and acknowledged her presence, stepping away from their little group. She started to introduce herself.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter. It’s an honour to finally meet you,” the girl said. So far, Harry was apprehensive until she said, “let me introduce myself. My name is Alicia O’Riley, and I’m a reporter for _The Quibbler_.” At this last statement, Harry relaxed and smiled at her.

“Hello, Alicia. The pleasure’s mine.” He smiled sweetly at Alicia, who stared at him wide-eyed for a full minute before shaking her head and continuing, “I would be honoured if you could answer some questions for me, please?” She was clearly nervous, Harry could tell. He thought about it for a moment before answering,

“I’m sorry Alicia, but I really should be boarding the train.” He smiled at her crestfallen face. “But I would be delighted to provide you with an interview if you’d like.” When she heard this, Alicia was positively shaking with excitement. “Just ask Luna Lovegood to contact me and we’ll arrange something,” he added with a smile before saying his farewell and following Ginny and the rest to the luggage carriage.

Ginny looked at him with a raised eyebrow and said, “and who might that be, Mr. Potter?”

“Oh, her? That was Alicia O’Riley. She’s a reporter for _The Quibbler_ and was asking me for some questions. I told her I’d be glad to give her an interview; but not now,” he explained. “I assume she’s a friend of Luna’s, so she’ll probably set it up.”

Ginny visibly relaxed at the mention of her friend’s magazine and smiled, “Yeah, I heard Luna mention her once or twice. She seems nice.”

“Suppose so.” Harry shrugged as they stepped into an empty compartment. Hermione excused herself, claiming she had to start her rounds as Head Girl. Grinning at their friend, Harry and Ginny lay on the bench of the compartment and sighed contentedly. They stayed like that for the remainder of the trip, Hermione eventually joining them an hour before their scheduled arrival at Hogsmeade Station. Shortly after that, Harry and Ginny were making their way to the carriages, listening to the booming voice of Hagrid yelling, “Firs’ years with me, ter the boats.”

When they arrived at the carriages, Harry was appalled that a significant number of students were now able to see the winged horses pulling the carriages. Even Ginny was gaping at them. These students had all witnessed death far earlier in life than should be expected, he realised, and this was living proof of it. He seemed to notice a second year flinch as she looked intently at the creature pulling the carriages. Why she had been able to see it, Harry didn’t want to know.

Despite the gloomy atmosphere upon de arrival of the Thestrals, the air of excitement and joy was clear as Harry and Ginny made their way to the Gryffindor table. What they hadn’t anticipated, however, was that almost every single student, minus most of Slytherin, was giving both of them a standing ovation. Blushing to the roots of their hair, the sat down beside Neville and Hermione, who were also blushing, as the applause was directed at them too.

When Minerva McGonagall stepped up to the podium, the entire Hall was silent. With a wave of her hand, she beckoned Professor Sprout, new Deputy Headmistress, to lead the frightened-looking first years to the Sorting Ceremony. The song and the sorting that followed went as expected with little trouble. Harry noticed that there were only two new Slytherins that year, and guessed that last year everyone had been sorted in that house. _Does the Sorting Hat try to balance the number of students in each House?_ he wondered.

Professor McGonagall once again made her way to the podium and smiled at the student body, before addressing them, ‘Welcome to Hogwarts, and to those returning students, welcome back,’ she started, in a fair imitation of Dumbledore. When everyone quieted down again, she spoke ‘It is with great pleasure that I can say that the war is now behind us, and classes have been brought back to normality, after the abrupt end of term last May. I’d like to take a moment to salute those that fought bravely and eventually laid down their lives for the return of peace to the Wizarding World,’ she bowed her head in silent respect. Her demeanour made it clear that this was a silent salute, and the order was followed to a tee.

“Firstly, I’d like to welcome the new addition to the staff,” she said, waving to a stout witch with a pleasant smile and sweet green eyes sitting at the staff table, “Professor O’Brian will be taking the responsibility of Defence Against the Dark Arts for the years four and above.” A hushed murmur followed this statement. “What about the younger students?” was probably the question on many minds at that moment. “I know what you’re probably thinking. For a second addition to our staff, in what can only be described as the most unusual of situations, for this unusual wizard, I’d like to introduce to you the Professor in charge of years one through three, Professor Harry Potter. Professor, please stand up,” she told him.

As Harry stood, a thunderous noise filled the Great Hall, and he thought that one more clapping person might shatter the windows. Ginny, Neville, and Hermione were all sharing looks of confusion, as Harry had not confided in anyone this tiny secret. He nodded at them, indicating that he would explain later, and sat down. After a couple of minutes, enough of the noise had died down that McGonagall could continue.

“Yes, congratulations Professor. I’d like to impress upon you that, while Mr. Potter here is still also a student here, he also holds the position of teacher, with the full power of awarding or removing house points and handing out detentions. I trust he will limit his powers to the classroom, of course,” she added, looking at Harry with a stern face. While Harry grinned at her, the rest of the student body seemed to relax and let out low chuckles at the jibe.

“Of course, I remind you that the Forbidden Forest is still, shockingly, strictly forbidden to any and all students without a teacher accompanying them. I hope everyone has a productive and enjoyable year, now that we can finally enjoy some peace for a change.” She said the last with a smile as she dismissed them. As the clapping subsided, Harry and Ginny were handed their timetables. Despite Harry only taking three classes that year, a lot of his free periods would be spent teaching the younger students DADA.

Ginny, on the other hand, had taken on four subjects and had much more free time to spare, which she actually regretted having, as she would not be able to spend much of it with Harry. He noticed that tomorrow he only had Potions in the morning, and would be teaching his first class of DADA to first-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors in the afternoon. _A pleasant day to start the year_ , Harry thought. And with that thought, the four friends, made their way to the common room. Neville and Hermione excused themselves and walked up to their respective dormitories. Harry and Ginny, however, stayed up for an extra hour, discussing their impending studies, until sleep got the better of them and they had to reluctantly retreat to different dormitories.

Harry now stood facing a group of eleven first years, sitting in front of him, staring at him in awe. He thought it was a bit disconcerting at first, but dismissed the thought and started with his first lesson.

“Good morning, class. I am Professor Potter, or Harry Potter, as many of you must know me. I’d like to start by getting to know you and placing names with faces. Who wants to go first?” The introduction part of the lesson lasted just over thirty minutes, in which Harry had hopefully created an amicable atmosphere for the kids. He thought they must be pretty scared right about now, especially those of muggle heritage. He sighed and continued with the plan.

“Alright, now that we know each other a little better, does anyone have any questions for me?” he asked the class. He knew this was a risky move, but he had vowed to himself he wouldn’t alienate the students just because he was a teacher. He was, after all, still a student just like them.

A mousy haired Gryffindor that reminded Harry of Neville lifted his hand timidly, and Harry could sympathise with the kid. _Shy as he seems, it takes a lot of courage to ask the first question,_ he decided. He gave his best smile and addressed the student, “Yes, Mr. Pyne, is it?”

“Yes, sir. Er, is it true that you died that night at the Battle in May?” asked the student, before adding, ‘I meant no disrespect, sir.”

The reason for his correction was Harry’s stunned face. He had expected his students to be somewhat curious about his involvement in the war, seeing as he was somewhat of a celebrity now. He had not, however, expected an eleven-year-old to ask such a question, let alone know that information. How had he found out about that? Harry chose his words very carefully before answering.

“Yes, Mr. Pyne, what you are saying is correct,” he said sombrely. He decided honesty was a good way to start on the right foot.

All eleven students, Mr. Pyne included, shared looks of disbelief and awe with each other. A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand, exuding a bit more confidence than Mr. Pyne had.

“Yes, Miss. Harriet?” said Harry, wary of the questions that might follow.

“If you don’t mind my asking, sir.” Harry could tell she was choosing her words carefully and smiled despite himself, “How are you still alive then? I thought coming back from the dead was something that not even magic can do,” she added, frowning as she fought to understand.

“Look, kids. I will be honest with you,” said Harry, prompting the students to lean forward on their chairs, “The Battle of Hogwarts was a warzone, in every way, and should not be romantised. I know hearing about these great things me and my friends did to end it sounds very cool and heroic. But don’t fool yourselves. Voldemort was not playing games with us, and the stakes were high. As to my untimely resurrection, Miss. Harriet, I have a simple answer. I don’t know.” This, of course, baffled the students, who were expecting some sort of tale about the great Harry Potter defeating and eventually cheating death. “I truly don’t know, because it is magic as old as time. And I’m afraid that neither you nor I are very close to getting a complete grasp of the logistics behind the magic that saved me that night, unfortunately so.”

“Don’t let Voldemort’s demise fool you into a sense of security either. That is why DADA is still a subject, and I now have a job.” A few chuckles from the students told him he was making headway in the atmosphere department. “I’m also not saying that you should become paranoid of every shadow, but keep something a good friend once told me in mind: Constant vigilance,” he added the last smiling, hoping they would lighten up at some humour. When it miraculously worked, Harry clapped his hands together and started with the lesson proper. The rest of the class was a success, as the students listened with rapt attention at what he was saying. He couldn’t remember a class so silent, yet so noisy as quills scratched parchment. He took note of this and decided he would start off with a version of the earlier speech in every one of his classes. He ended up awarding 25 points to Gryffindor and 40 to Ravenclaw as their enthusiasm got the better of him, and the kids seemed to enjoy themselves.

As the lesson wound to a close, he noticed the students were conversing with each other about the great class they had just had, causing Harry to swell with pride. This swelling stopped, however, when he noticed a Ravenclaw girl off to the side of the hallway, silently crying into her robes. He felt a pang of sadness and decided to approach the girl.

“Miss. Windsor, is everything alright?” he asked tentatively. He didn’t want to pry, but to his surprise, she didn’t mind.

“Yeah, I’m fine, sir.” Harry knew this was a lie without having to use Legilimency. The girl had straight long blond hair, which flowed down to her lower back. Harry noticed that she was much smaller than her classmates, probably just over four feet tall. A pair of round glasses, much like Harry’s, adorned her heart-shaped face. Behind them, however, her green-blue eyes were bloodshot, and fresh tear tracks marked her cheeks. He frowned and knelt beside the crying girl, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Miss. Windsor, would you like to come into my office for a cup of tea? I’m sure your Professor will understand your absence,” he asked calmly. When she nodded, Harry indicated Miss. Harriet that she was to inform the Professor of the reason for Miss. Windsor not being there. As the rest of the students disappeared down the corridor, Harry led the crying little girl into the office adjacent to his classroom. It was a simple office, with no decorations, as he wouldn’t really use it for much other than in between classes.

He indicated that the girl take a seat and waved his wand wordlessly to charm the kettle to pour two cups of tea. As he took his seat in front of her, he could see her trying to push back the tears and stand up straighter to look at Harry directly into his eyes. He had a surge of respect for her.

“Tell me, Mary.” Her eyes widened as Harry used her first name. He wanted to let her know they were on even footing, and he continued, “What is it that’s bothering you? I might even be able to help you.” He was trying to convey reassurance in his tone.

With a final sniff and a long sigh, Mary explained what was bothering her, “you see, sir, my mum died at the Battle of Hogwarts, and hearing you talk about it sort of brought the memory back. I’m sorry.” Harry was appalled, hearing her apologize for mourning her mother. He shook the thought and gave the girl a sad smile.

“First of all, you can call me Harry when we’re alone, okay?” She nodded, “Secondly, you should not apologize for feeling what you’re feeling. I of all people understand what you’re going through. You should be able to mourn your mother, as I know that she must have fought bravely.” He heard her sniff, but no further tears were forthcoming. He counted this as a small victory. “I am the one that should be sorry. I’m sorry that my talking about the war made you remember such horrible things, and I will strive to avoid doing so in the coming lessons,” he promised, looking her directly in her eyes. She nodded and smiled sadly at him.

“Thank you, sir. I mean, Harry,” she corrected herself with a sad smile, “That means a lot to me. It’s just hard, you know. My father is also an Auror, and he’s always putting himself in danger. Lately, he’s been doing it more. I think that’s his way to cope,” she shrugged and left a stunned Harry looking at her. This girl was talking with the maturity of someone much older, and he felt a pang of regret that that was probably a product of the war.

“I know how you feel. You feel unable to do anything about the people you love,” he concluded. Mary nodded her agreement and looked back at Harry. “Believe me, that happened to me more times than I care to count. Yes, you heard me right,” he added, seeing the look of disbelief on her face.

“But. You’re Harry Potter,” she said, more as a statement than a question. He smiled and responded.

“Yes, and you’re Mary Windsor. What’s your point?’ He heard her chuckle as she tried to explain.

“I just didn’t know you of all people would feel powerless. You’re like the most powerful wizard ever.” She cocked her head to the right and looked into the bright green eyes that now adorned a blushing face.

“I wouldn’t know about being the most powerful, but even so, I constantly felt powerless to protect those I love, until I learned to admit that some things are just out of our control,” he explained, reaching over and placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “If you keep that in mind, you might find that you can cope much more easily.” He scrawled a note on a piece of parchment and handed it to her.

“I think you should go and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Go outside and enjoy the warmth before it’s gone,” he said as she stood and walked to the door. He called back at her and she turned, “And if you ever feel the need to talk about this or about anything for that matter, don’t hesitate to come to me. I will only be too happy to help you,” he added with a lopsided grin. The beaming smile he got in return made him sigh in relief as he sat back down in his chair. He had had to start on an antidote for a Draught of the Living Dead in Potions that morning, then endured hard questions from enthusiastic eleven-year-olds, and finally had to comfort a small child after having mentioned the very battle her mother had been killed in. He cursed himself for not thinking of that contingency. He knew Mary Windsor would need careful watching over, and he wasn’t about to delegate this delicate task to other faculty or students.


	8. Chapter 8

The first week back at Hogwarts flew by with no further incident. Harry was sitting at the Gryffindor table helping himself to some dinner, while some of his students timidly approached him and asked him whatever question they had. He was gaining a reputation for being a more than easily accessible teacher, and he loved it. Harry was enjoying himself immensely, between his NEWT classes and his teaching duties. He almost hadn’t noticed that this was the first year that he wasn’t in any sort of immediate danger or threat from a homicidal maniac. That thought put a smile on his face, and with a wave to his friends and Ginny, he made his way to McGonagall’s office.

He had asked her for a private meeting with Dumbledore, as he had some unresolved questions for his former mentor. McGonagall accepted and advised him to come by her office Friday night. He told the gargoyle the password – “Albus.” – When he knocked on the wooden door, a muffled voice said, “Come in,” and he opened it.

McGonagall’s office was exactly the same as it had been when Dumbledore used it. All the shining silver machinery stood where it had, and the stone Pensieve resided in a corner, its swirling contents casting an eerie light into the otherwise pleasantly lit room.

“Good evening, Professor,” said Harry, sitting down across from his current Headmistress.

“Good evening, Professor,” she responded, the beginnings of a smile threatening to break her stern visage.

Harry grinned and looked up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. Despite the feigned snores of the rest of the portraits, Dumbledore was regarding Harry with a piercing stare over his half-moon spectacles. A smile adorned his features as Harry addressed him.

“Hello, Professor. It’s been a while,” he said, smiling at his former Headmaster.

“That it has, my boy, that it has. Let me congratulate you once more on a job well done,” said Dumbledore with a nod in Harry’s direction, “I haven’t seen such peaceful times for fifty years, and for that, I thank you.”

Harry was actually getting annoyed at people always thanking him for something that was clearly a group effort. But when Dumbledore said it, he felt a surge of pride rise within him that he couldn’t explain. Remembering his original purpose, he shook his head and looked back at Dumbledore.

“Sir, I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me,” he inquired.

“Certainly, my boy. That is why I’m here, after all,” he said, chuckling.

“Would you like some privacy, Harry?” said McGonagall, making to stand up.

“Not necessary, Professor,” he answered, before thinking about it. “Actually, you might be able to help me too,” he finished and McGonagall nodded for him to continue.

“First things first, I wanted to let you know that I will be returning this,” he explained, taking the Elder Wand out of his back pocket and placing it on the desk, “to its original owner. As we discussed, Professor, if I were to die of natural causes, its power would then die with me?”

“Most likely, Harry. I haven’t done much research into it, but that is probably the general consensus, yes,” said Dumbledore.

“Which is why I need your help, Professor,” he continued, addressing McGonagall, ‘to return it to Dumbledore’s tomb.”

McGonagall seemed to consider this, before nodding. “I will help you, Harry. We can go tonight, under cover of darkness, and reseal the tomb before midnight,” she said as Harry nodded.

“Great, thanks,” he said before looking back at Dumbledore. “There’s also something else,” he said.

“Let’s see, my boy. I daresay, Harry, you always seem to give us the most amazing puzzles to solve,” said Dumbledore, the twinkle of his eyes never leaving them.

Harry grinned sheepishly before answering, “Well, over the summer Ginny and I discovered that since Voldemort fell, I haven’t had to utter a single spell out loud,” he explained.

“I did notice during our lessons this week that you have been awfully quiet, even when practicing the transfigurations. I just assumed you were muttering them,” said McGonagall, shrugging and turning to her predecessor, who was deep in thought. After a moment, Dumbledore spoke and addressed Harry.

“Most intriguing. Most intriguing indeed,” he said slowly, “if you will, Harry, I will now attempt something we did during your sixth year. Guessing,” he finished, to which Harry chuckled.

“I believe that this new development has something to do with your connection to Voldemort,” said Dumbledore, and Harry grimaced.

“You mean I still have a part of him inside me?” he asked, disgusted with himself. The idea of having harboured the vile creature in his soul for seventeen years was disturbing enough, but to still be connected to him after having defeated him made Harry sick. Dumbledore, however, smiled and corrected himself.

“No no, my boy. Just the opposite,” he said, and continued when Harry gave him a confused smile, “I believe you have always had this power or the potential for it, and now that you have rid yourself of Riddle, your true power is rearing its head.”

Harry was even more confused than before, and he said so. Dumbledore nodded and thought about it before explaining.

“Think of your body as a vessel, if you will. In it, there is the magical power which we all possess, along with memories and emotions. All of this, along with other aspects of what makes you a person, might be considered the contents of your soul, might they not?” Harry nodded for him to continue. “Now, we assume that Voldemort’s piece, which was in you all along, was lodged somewhere in your very soul, correct?” Again Harry nodded. “So your body, upon being invaded, for lack of a better word, had to suppress a number of your abilities to fit the now expanding contents of the limited space that your soul possessed,” said Dumbledore. Harry thought he understood but let the man continue anyway.

“That is why you knew how to speak to snakes, because Voldemort could, and probably why the Sorting Hat considered placing you in Slytherin. It must have seen that part of you that wasn’t _you_ ,” he explained. Harry turned to where the Sorting Hat lay upon a shelf and back at Dumbledore.

“So you’re saying that I was actually supposed to be more powerful, but the presence of Voldemort was dampening my abilities?” he asked, trying to grasp the magnitude of the implications.

“Indeed, much more powerful, if you take at all to your parents. Both remarkable people, and even more remarkable wizards,” replied Dumbledore, smiling.

Harry looked down at his hands. He thought that what Dumbledore was saying made sense, but the reality of the situation scared him. He knew what power did to people, and he was not about to become the next Voldemort. Dumbledore seemed to read his thoughts once more, and he chuckled.

“Worry not, my dear boy. The saying goes ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely’, but that doesn’t mean it is a rule of life. Merely guidance, I’d presume. In life, I was powerful, if I do say so myself, and I always strived to work for the good of the people, despite my earlier misgivings as a foolish teenager”’ he said sadly. Harry knew what he was talking about and he knew he was right, but he still had doubts.

“Harry, do you remember what I told you that night after you defeated the basilisk in your second year?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry nodded and said, “You said that it is not our abilities that define who we are, but our actions.” He remembered that as if it was yesterday.

“Precisely, Harry. Your actions in the past seven years alone have proven to us non-stop that the path you are paving for your life is one of greatness, to be sure, but a humble one. You know the dangers of delving into the path of Tom Riddle, but you are humble enough to pull yourself down from time to time. I daresay, if not through you, I think we can count on Miss. Weasley to keep an eye on you?” he asked, which made Harry blush to the roots of his messy hair. He shook it off and nodded.

“Thank you, sir. You have given me much to think about. I think we should get going now.” He stood up and McGonagall did likewise.

“Goodbye, Harry. I do hope I will see you again,” said Dumbledore nodding.

“You can count on it, sir,” responded Harry, before exiting the office with Professor McGonagall.

Two hours later, Harry lay in his four-poster bed mulling over the new information he had been given. Returning the Elder Wand had been easy, and Harry had returned to his dormitory after twenty minutes. The flurry of information kept him from fully dozing off though, and he was willing himself to close his eyes. After a restless hour, Harry finally succumbed to a dreamless sleep. He thought he could get used to that.

The following morning, Harry was relaying the new revelation to Ginny and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Their reactions had been what he expected, obviously. Ginny had been ecstatic, immensely proud of Harry, and made a show of kissing him in front of everyone. This left a flustered Harry to face Hermione, who was looking apprehensive but excited nonetheless.

“That’s fascinating, Harry! I wonder how many people have been able to do what you can. I might have to go to-” she started, before being cut off.

“The library,” said Harry and Ginny in unison. Hermione scowled at them, but nodded and took off to her number one source of information.

During the following month and a half, Harry made a point of keeping his mouth shut when practicing spells or incantations. He wanted to know what the limit of this newfound ability was. So far, he had had no problems with doing so, and his grades in every exam were the proof of it. Professor Flitwick had been ecstatic when Harry showed the class his non-verbal Patronus, which prompted a barrage of “aahs” and “oohs” from the students and the biggest smile Flitwick had ever been seen sporting.

“This is just marvellous, Mr. Potter. I thought maybe you had been pulling my hair before. I am truly astounded,” he had exclaimed as he saw the stag prancing among the desks and then stopping to a halt next to Harry. This time, the stag had stood beside its caster for almost two minutes, looking around as if fending off trouble, before fading away. Harry took note of that, as did Hermione.

As mid-October neared, Harry found himself in a new predicament. When walking down a corridor from his last class of the day, he heard a muffled cry around the corner, followed by snickers. He frowned and turned the corner. He saw with a jolt that the source of the crying was a little blonde-haired witch, while the laughter came from a group of three Slytherin fourth years. Harry put two and two together and spoke to the girl first.

‘Miss. Windsor, is everything okay?’ he asked, concern evident in his voice.

As Mary looked up, she flung her arms around Harry’s waist and sniffed loudly, “Those boys were mocking my parents. They said it would have been better if they both had died that day,” she said. Harry’s blood ran cold, and he rounded on the three Slytherins. The fire in his eyes drew their laughter to a stop, and one of them gulped.

What Harry failed to notice was that he was actually radiating a fair amount of heat at the moment. The momentous change of atmosphere frightened the Slytherins, to say the least.

“Is what Miss. Windsor just said true?” asked Harry, a mixture of venom and warning in his otherwise very quiet tone.

The fourth years looked at each other, fear clear in their faces, and turned to Harry. The one in the front, the leader Harry thought, looked down in defeat and mumbled, “yes, sir.” Harry knew what Mary had said was true, but to hear it from them made him angrier. He struggled to keep his temper down and his tone quiet.

“Look, I don’t know just who or where you think you are. I hope you realise that those views were fought against this last May by a whole lot of people, but most importantly by me,” he warned. The Slytherins gulped together but stayed glued to the spot. “Since this is the first time I caught you, you may go without losing a hundred points each, but be warned. If I ever catch word that you, or anyone for that matter, are harassing students with such nonsense I will personally hex you into tomorrow, understood?”

A chorus of “yes, sirs,” ensued, and Harry spoke up once more, “Now, I want you to apologize to Miss. Windsor here.”

“Sorry,” they all said in unison again. Harry dismissed them, and they bolted at top speed down the corridor. He then knelt beside the sobbing girl and placed an arm around her.

“Are you okay, Mary? Would you like a cup of tea?” he offered, looking down at her.

Mary looked up at him and shook her head. “No, sir. It’s okay. Thank you for defending me, though,” she said lamely.

“Hey, what are friends for?” said Harry smiling.

She looked at him with wide eyes and spoke, barely above a whisper, ‘You want to be my friend?’

“Well, of course,’ he said wrapping her in a hug. “You’re a special girl, Mary. And I know for a fact that you’re an excellent witch, based on our lessons,” he gave her a lopsided grin. “If anyone starts bothering you again, you come to me, okay?”

She considered this for a moment before smiling. “Yeah, Harry. Thanks,” she said and flung her arms around him. With a final squeeze, she trotted down the corridor, practically skipping.

Harry smiled to himself and kept walking to the common room. He smiled even wider when he saw Ginny sitting on a lounge chair in front of the fire, grinning at him. When he told her what had happened, she looked concerned but smiled at him.

“You’re an amazing person, Harry. That girl is lucky to have you,” she exclaimed, kissing his cheek.

“And I’m lucky to have such a supportive girlfriend,” he replied, kissing her deeply. “Let’s just hope my friendship is all she needs to get through this year,” he mused, frowning.

“She will be fine, Harry. She still has her dad, and now she has you at her side. It’ll work out. You just see,” she said, curling up on his lap. They stayed like that for an hour before departing for the Great Hall for dinner.

The meal passed pleasantly enough. Harry and Ginny talked to their friends about the coming lessons that week, and Harry kept shooting glances toward the Ravenclaw table. When he made eye contact with Mary, he smiled and waved at her. She waved back and beamed, ensuing looks from her housemates. When they noticed who she was waving at, they paled and looked at her in awe. Harry thought that at least she would be the centre of much more pleasant attention, at least for a while.

When everyone had had their dessert, McGonagall stood at the podium and asked for silence. When she got it she looked at everyone before saying,

“Good evening, students. I hope you had a pleasant dinner,’ she got affirmative nods and mumbles from the crowd, “as you are all aware, Halloween is almost upon us, and I’d like to make an announcement. This year, in celebration of the Battle, we will be hosting a Ball on October 31st. We hope to bring this event back as a yearly happening. It will be an optional event, of course.” She saw a lot of students sigh in relief. “There will also be a small surprise that evening, courtesy of the Ministry,” she added, looking around at the confused faces of the student body.

“What do you think Kingsley’s up to this time?” Ginny asked Harry, to which he shrugged.

“Dunno, maybe a speech?” he mused, thinking about what possible surprise Kingsley could have for them.

“I will also add that fifth through seventh years will be allowed to bring a guest to the Ball. Yes, I’m sorry but many more would certainly overflow the capacity of the Great Hall,” she added when the younger students started to protest. Apparently, they deemed this reason worthy, and so they quieted down. Hermione, in particular, was beaming with the news that she would be able to invite Ron to the Ball. The four of them had been seeing each other in Hogsmeade weekends, but a party was just what she needed.

Harry and Ginny, though neither would admit it to the other, were excited to be able to dance with the other. They hadn’t had a proper date since they got back together unless you counted walking to Gringotts as a date, which they didn’t. Ginny and Hermione were already deep in conversation, talking about what dresses to wear to the Ball, while Harry thought about what a great time both of them would have dancing for the first time as a couple.

The following two weeks passed in a haze of dress fitting and excitement boiling in the air. Ginny had not even shown Harry her dress, as she wanted it to be a surprise. She had just said that is was emerald green, so he could find something that matched. “And no, your eyes don’t count,” she’d said cheekily. So far he had been unsuccessful. He stood in front of the mirror in his dormitory on the night of the Ball, wearing a dress robe over a muggle black tux he had delivered to him. It had jet black pants, and a white button-up shirt, supposedly made by some Giorgio something or other. He just knew it was very expensive.

As he examined his outfit for tonight, he tied his tie around his neck and sighed. The tie was a deep red and he didn’t really like it. After a moment’s thought, he slapped his forehead and cursed himself for being such a prat. He was a wizard, for Merlin’s sake! Taking out his wand, he pointed it at his tie and it turned a deep emerald green to match his eyes and hopefully, Ginny’s dress. He smiled at his handiwork – _or wandiwork?_ – and walked down the staircase and through the portrait hole. He walked silently to the Entrance Hall, where he would meet up with Ginny. A soft tapping sound reached his ears and he turned around. He was pretty sure his jaw could be now scraping the floors in the dungeons.

Ginny was walking towards him, wearing a strapless green dress to match Harry’s eyes. It flowed flawlessly down her body, accenting her curves in a classy way. She was walking in black heels and doing it smoothly enough to make Harry’s heart skip several beats. She looked beautiful. He tried to say so but no words came out, and Ginny laughed.

“I hope the words you’re trying to form are good,” she teased, kissing his cheek and looping her arm with his. He recovered after a moment and looked into her chocolate brown eyes.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly as if fearing that someone might hear him and realise the same thing. She blushed and smiled back at him.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself. Look at you, all handsome,” she said grinning, placing a hand on his chest and her lips softly against his. They were interrupted, yet again, by someone clearing his throat. The turned to see Ron, wearing a tux similar to Harry’s, arms crossed. Ginny rolled her eyes and wrapped her arm around Harry’s waist.

“You really do have perfect timing, don’t you?” she said, causing Ron to blush. At that moment, Hermione appeared, wearing a cornflower blue dress, much like the one she wore to the Yule Ball, four years ago. Harry and Ginny stood watching a scene similar to the one they had just put on, as Ron struggled to find words to describe his girlfriend. Apparently, she could lip read better than Ginny, because she said,

“Thank you, Ron. You look beautiful too.” She laughed, kissing him and placing her arms around his waist.

“Should we go in?” asked Harry, looking wearily at the closed door.

“Here goes nothing,” said Ginny, sighing as they entered the Great Hall. As they looked around, they thought the same thing. This would be an interesting night.


	9. Chapter 9

“Bloody hell,” Harry heard Ron mutter as they inspected the drastic change the Great Hall had undertaken. The four house tables had been removed, replaced by a number of smaller, round tables. In the middle, space was left bare as a dance floor. The tables were all covered in white linen tablecloths, surrounded by white chairs. The dais that usually served as the staff table was still there but was now covered in a beige tablecloth, dinner platters already set as the staff helped themselves to flagons of who knows what. Bloody hell, indeed.

Harry scanned the tables. Some of them were occupied by students and their guests, but what caught his attention was a certain table that sported a group of redheaded individuals, waving them over. Harry led the small group to where the Weasleys sat, a question on his face.

“Kingsley invited us, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said by way of explanation. “Insisted, more like it. He was adamant that all Weasleys be present,” she explained, while Harry and Ginny shared a look of disbelief. What was Kingsley playing at?

They sat down at the four remaining tables, Ginny taking the spot to the left of Harry, and waited for the Hall to fill up. He could see some of the students looking in their direction, confused. They hadn’t been able to bring a guest, but here were the entire Weasley clan. He tried to convey as much confusion in the shrugs he gave as he could, and the students kept on walking. Ten minutes later, everyone was seated, and McGonagall approached the podium to address the Ball.

“Good evening, everyone. It’s a pleasure to see you all dressed up,” she said, an uncharacteristic smile on her face. Harry looked around; most of the older students were indeed dressed up, but the younger ones wore the usual school robes. They probably had never come to a Ball, Harry thought. “Tonight, we have a special guest that would like to make a few announcements. Please welcome Minister Shacklebolt,” she stepped aside as Kingsley took her place. When the applause died down, he spoke in his deep booming voice.

“Good evening, Hogwarts. It gives me immense joy to know everyone here will have a good time tonight, and I want to congratulate a few people if you don’t mind,” he said, smiling. A few chuckles were followed by complete silence as Kingsley put on a much grimmer face. “Nearly half a year ago, the Battle of Hogwarts took place in these very halls. Although it was a great victory for the entire Wizarding World, it came at an immense price. Fifty-three lives were lost fighting for our freedom. And I would like to acknowledge that sacrifice. If a family member of those that lost their lives would come forward, please?” he asked

As Harry watched, a great number of people rose and filed to the front of the dais. He noticed with a pang that George was the one that walked forward in representation of his twin. He also saw Dennis Creevey, a sad smile etched on his face. When everyone was in place, Kingsley nodded and walked forward, to be at the same level as the family members.

“I would like to acknowledge the sacrifices your families have made so that we may now live in peace, even if I can’t bring them back. So it is with great honour that I present each of these brave people with the Order of Merlin, Third Class,” he boomed, presenting each family member with a medal and a handshake. The Hall erupted in respectful applause. Harry saw with relief that the Weasleys all looked proud, a smile on each of their faces. Even George seemed to stand up straighter, holding his brother’s medal.

As everyone received the medal, they thanked the Minister and sat back down at their table, Kingsley nodded and went on.

“Congratulations indeed. There are also a few extra acknowledgements we would like to give,” he continued, and Harry thought he knew where this was going. “I would invite Neville Longbottom, Ginevra Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnegan, Hannah Abbot, and Dean Thomas to join me up here,” he said. With a nudge from Harry, Ginny made her way up to the dais with the rest of the students. “These remarkable witches and wizards were part of a group called Dumbledore’s Army. They were a key element in the battle and the defeat of Voldemort,” he declared, as applause ensued.

“So it is my honour to bestow upon them the Order of Merlin, Second Class,” said Kingsley. This time the applause was more thunderous, most of it probably coming from the Weasley table. Harry thought he couldn’t have been more proud. He knew Ginny had been a key element of the resistance last year, and she deserved every praise she got.

When the recipients made their way to their tables, Kingsley spoke up again, “Now, you may have noticed that I left out three very important parts of Dumbledore’s Army. The first of these is a man that has been in the front lines in the defence against Voldemort since he was eleven, having helped in preventing him from regaining his body much sooner than he did. His tactical ability has been matched by few, and he is one-third of the trio that played the key role of bringing about Voldemort’s demise. I ask Ronald Billius Weasley to join me,” he said. Ron, ears threatening to camouflage themselves with his red hair, stood up and walked to stand next to Kingsley, who then went on.

“Next is what is most likely the brightest witch of her generation, and of any generation for that matter. She was another third of the trio that has vanquished Voldemort’s many attempts at gaining power through the years. Even as a twelve-year-old, she took to the task of solving the hardest puzzle every Professor in Hogwarts could muster, and come up victorious at every turn. Reliable sources even claim that the other two parts would not even be alive if it weren’t for her.” At this, there was a general chuckle, before Kingsley said, “I would welcome Hermione Jean Granger to stand beside me.” Hermione, as red as Ron, did as he asked and stood beside her boyfriend at the top of the dais.

“Now is a man that needs no introduction, but will get one anyway. He has been the object of many misgivings in his life, tracing back to shortly after his first birthday, on this very night seventeen years ago. Even after every challenge life placed before him, he always came up on top through sheer force of will. He has faced Voldemort not once, not twice, but six times in the course of seventeen years, laying down his own life for the greater good of the Wizarding World, and finally bested him in the end, bringing about the end of his reign of terror. It is with great honour that I ask Harry James Potter to join me up with his friends.” Harry could have sworn a great dragon had been released in the Hall, as a roar of applause filled his ears and threatened to render him deaf. He stood and joined his two best friends up at the dais.

“The three of them have shown courage beyond words at every turn, and I myself feel that this might not be enough to thank them for the immense sacrifice they have endured. Even so, we present the three of them with an Order of Merlin, First Class,” he said and, as applause filled the walls of the Hall, he produced three medals and handed them to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They all thanked him and went back to their chairs.

“Well, I have taken enough of your time for tonight. Let the music begin, and let the dancing commence,” he declared, as a string quartet started playing a slow song. Harry and Ginny both stood and made their way to the dance floor, Order of Merlin medals left forgotten at their chairs. Many more couples followed suit, and soon the floor was bustling with activity. As they slowly moved to the beat of the song, Ginny placed her head on Harry’s shoulder and sighed, content. Harry raised her face with his finger and kissed her softly as if they were the only two people in the world. He looked at her beautiful chocolate brown eyes and smiled.

“I love you, Gin,” he said, sending shivers down her spine. She never got bored of hearing it. How could she?

“I love you too, Harry,” she replied, as she stood on her toes to kiss him again. They stood at the dance floor for several songs, before a rather upbeat song threatened to break Ginny’ heels, and they had to stop and sit down, both laughing. Harry scanned the rest of the room and was surprised to see that almost all of the students from the first and second year were separated into two groups of opposite sexes, neither looking at the other. As he looked at a certain first year, he smiled and bent down to whisper in Ginny’s ear.

“Sorry, love, but there is another girl I would like to dance with tonight.” Ginny looked up and was about to protest before she saw who he was looking at, and visibly relaxed.

“Go on, Harry. You’re so sweet,” she said. With a kiss from Ginny, Harry approached a blonde-haired Ravenclaw and offered his hand to her.

“Would you give me the honour of dancing with me, Mary?” he asked, his tone gentle and low enough for only her and her friends to hear him. To dumbfounded looks of her schoolmates, Mary took his hand and followed him onto the dance floor. Harry took both her hands and started dancing. It was a sight to see, more so because he was almost two heads taller than her. He had an idea and thought the words _Wingardium Leviosa._ Mary almost shrieked as she was lifted into the air to where she stood, or rather floated, eye to eye with Harry. They both smiled and kept dancing until the song ended.

Gently floating her down to the ground, Harry made a show of bowing deeply to her, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles as she went back to her astonished first-year schoolmates. With the looks she was getting, she might as well have just fought a three-headed dragon and won. On the other side of the Hall, Harry sat down next to Ginny and got a kiss on the cheek.

“That was really sweet, love. She probably had the time of her life,” said Ginny. He smiled and looked over to where Mary now stood, now more sure of herself. When he noticed movement, he smiled broadly and said to Ginny.

“Looks like she’s about to enjoy herself even more,” Ginny turned to where Mary stood, and sure enough, the mousy-haired boy from Gryffindor was approaching her and supposedly asking her to dance. To the little boy’s relief, she nodded enthusiastically and followed him to the dance floor. Harry and Ginny looked at the small couple and smiled to themselves. They decided they had rested enough and walked up next to Mary and her escort, and started dancing as well. Harry winked at Mary as he spun Ginny and pressed her body to his. Ginny smiled and made a show to kiss him softly on the lips. They both laughed as they saw the disgusted looks on Mary and the boy, and bowed to each other as the song ended.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough, and by midnight, with numerous hugs and congratulations from their family, Harry and Ginny made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. There they stayed curled up in front of the fire, not really talking about anything in particular. As sleep continued to elude them, Ginny looked at Harry with a smouldering fire in her eyes and glanced at the staircase that led to the boys’ dormitories. Harry picked up on this and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” he asked, starting to fill with a warmth that had nothing to do with the hearth in front of them.

“Sure, let’s go celebrate these,” she exclaimed, lifting her medal. Harry nodded vigorously and led her up the stairs to show each other just how proud they were of the other.

The following weeks passed in a breeze as the excitement for the Christmas Break flowed through the student body. No further incidents followed the last one with Mary, and Harry for one was quite pleased about that. He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with being so feared that students wouldn’t dare taunt others, but if it served the purpose, he was happy. Over the months of November and December, Mary had taken to join Harry in his office for a cup of tea every Sunday when he graded papers or prepared lessons for the students. He didn’t mind one bit and was thoroughly enjoying the conversations he had with her.

He learned, much to his displeasure, that since her mother’s death, her father was more than aloof and rarely wrote to her anymore; either caught up at work or claiming he just didn’t have the time. Harry thought that wasn’t much of an excuse, but since her father was an Auror, he really couldn’t say. Instead, he settled for giving the diminutive witch a space to vent about the stress of her first year at Hogwarts and whatever troubles she was going through.

These regular meetings didn’t mean that Harry was playing favourites, though. At several times of the week, a student could be found approaching him and he would be more than willing to help them with whatever inquiry they might have at the time. Sometimes they even stayed, striking up a conversation, or looking at him and Ginny, in awe at the love that they displayed. The latter was usually practiced by younger witches, sighing deeply at the prospect of a Prince Charming of their own. Ginny would give them a sympathetic smile, and dial down the sappy attitude.

Something that had taken a bit of Harry and Ginny’s time was Quidditch practice. They had both made the team with ease, outflying every aspiring Gryffindor, and impressing the new captain, a fifth-year witch. Harry had been offered the position, but respectfully declined, claiming that he had enough on his plate without adding the responsibility of managing practices throughout the year. Once Ginny was offered, she used a similar iteration of Harry’s argument, claiming that four NEWTs were hard enough. The position then befell Beth Lafitte, a fifth-year chaser who had a charming attitude and fierce loyalty to the sport. Harry and Ginny both thought she was a perfect choice, and told her so, leaving her blushing to the roots of her auburn hair.

They had beat Hufflepuff in an intense four-hour game that ended in a whopping four hundred and thirty points to forty. Needless to say, the Gryffindors were ecstatic. Harry’s amazing hundred-foot dive to grab the snitch in a tight curve that almost buckled him out onto the Black Lake had been retold for weeks on end. They now would have to wait until after the break to play Slytherin and they were working non-stop so as not to lose the edge they had for the Quidditch Cup.

Trouble finally found Harry in the form of a crying Mary, holding a letter as he wrapped his arms around her. After she could calm down, he took the letter and read it. It was a letter from his father, informing her that he was very sorry but that he wouldn’t be able to have her home for Christmas. He was supposed to be on a job and didn’t want to leave her alone at home. Harry’s heart was breaking for this girl, as he knew just how much she had been looking forward to finally seeing her father.

He held her at arm’s length and looked into her green-blue eyes. They usually looked as though they could look straight into your soul, Harry thought, but today they were bloodshot and sad. He offered her a sad smile and said,

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Christmas at Hogwarts is an amazing experience. I stayed here in my first year, and we had a blast,” he tried to reassure the girl, but he wasn’t making much headway.

“I know you’re right, but it would have been fun to see my dad after five months, you know?” she sniffed and looked at Harry. “Plus, most of my friends are going home for the break, and I will have no one to celebrate it with anyway,” she added, looking down at the floor.

Harry hadn’t taken that into account. Sure, he had stayed in his first year, but at the time Ron had been with him. It had been his first really happy Christmas. If she really didn’t have anyone to spend it with, what was the point of Christmas? Harry thought about it for a few minutes until he realised the answer was so simple. His sad smile turned into a grin as he said.

“Hey, I know something we can do.”

She looked up at him quizzically. “What is it?”

“Why don’t you stay with us at the Burrow? I’m sure Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t mind; the more the merrier, she always says,” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” she replied dejectedly. Surely, she couldn’t spend Christmas with her Professor, could she?

“Don’t you worry about that. Look, Mary, I’d like to think we’re good friends, are we not?” he said, and she nodded, “Good, because this is what friends do. They help each other when times are dark. I will not let you spend the most joyous part of the year alone,” he declared, looking straight into her eyes, which lit up.

“You’re really serious?” she asked, to which he nodded, “Oh, Harry. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she repeated as she flung herself onto him and hugged him tightly. “I would love to meet your family, too,” she added sheepishly.

Harry chuckled and replied, “Don’t worry, they are great people. You like Ginny, right?” She nodded. “Well, they are much like her,’ he said before adding in a whisper, “Although, between you and me, she’s my favourite. Don’t tell them, though.” He winked, which prompted a giggle from the small girl.

“I won’t, I promise.” She nodded.

“It’s settled, then. I will go have a talk with McGonagall and see about getting permission to bring you with us at King’s Cross Station,” he said, leading her to the Great Hall where dinner was just being served. With a hug and a wave, Mary made her way excitedly to the Ravenclaw table and started chatting animatedly with her friends.

Harry was smiling to himself when a pair of slender pale arms encircled his waist and he felt a soft voice in his ear.

“That was amazing, Harry. She will have a great time at the Burrow,” Ginny said as Harry spun around to face her.

“Ah, you heard? I hope your mum doesn’t mind, though,” he added as an afterthought.

Ginny snorted and looked at him, “Seriously Harry, do you even know my mum? She will be delighted to have her over,” she said, “I’d be surprised if she doesn’t knit her a Weasley jumper.”

With a kiss, Harry led his girlfriend to the Gryffindor table and enjoyed one of the last meals before they departed on Saturday. This would be an amazing Christmas, Harry thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry sat in a carriage in the Hogwarts Express, Ginny at his side and Hermione in front of them, a book in her hands. _Some things never change_ , Harry thought. It had been a very pleasant ride, with little talk and the stress of exams leaving their shoulders for a good two weeks. They were now approaching London and were stretching their legs as a knock on the door startled them. When they opened the door, a diminutive witch with flowing blonde hair and a timid smile stood before them.

“Hello,” she greeted shyly and was let in by Harry. “I thought I’d stay close to you guys so I don’t get lost,” she added.

“Good idea. McGonagall was adamant that I bring you back in one piece,” said Harry, a lopsided grin on his face at the frown on Mary’s face. Hermione snorted and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Mary. Harry’s just being a prat,” she assured her. Mary looked at Harry’s feigned outrage and giggled as she relaxed into her seat.

“So, are you excited for Christmas at the Burrow?” asked Ginny, leaning forward and offering the smaller girl a smile too.

“I guess so,” she said, “I don’t really know what to expect. Christmas at my place was always very subdued, ‘cause I’m an only child.” She shrugged.

“Well, this will surely be a change from the usual. Ginny has five older brothers, plus her parents and Hermione and me, that’s a whole lot of people, and a whole lot of presents,’ said Harry, as excited at the prospect as a small child.

“You think they will give me presents? But they don’t even know me.” She frowned, confused.

“That won’t matter to them. That is what they’re like,” offered Hermione. “I remember Harry got a jumper and some fudge from Mrs. Weasley in his first year, and she had only seen him once before,’ she explained, and Mary smiled broadly.

Thirty minutes later, the scarlet steam engine drew to a stop at King’s Cross Station, and the foursome made their way out of the train and up to Mrs. Weasley. As the older people got a hug, Molly rounded on Mary and offered her biggest smile.

“And you must be Mary, correct?” she asked, and Mary nodded, awed. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear. Harry and Ginny have told me so much about you,” she exclaimed, ushering the group out of the platform and into the busy street beyond.

“They have?” she asked incredulously and looked at the young couple. They both nodded and smiled at her.

“Of course, I’d never miss the opportunity to tell Molly about my favourite student,” said Harry, as he made a show of covering his mouth with open eyes, “Oops, shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

Both Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes as the small girl giggled. A Ministry car was waiting for them, and they trooped inside. Due to the inhuman speed of the bewitched car, they were rolling up on the dirt road at the Burrow in less than two hours. Harry looked expectantly at Mary as she took her first look at the house. Her jaw dropped from the sheer awe of seeing such a place. It was a weird contraption of many storeys, apparently held up by magic alone. She said as much to Harry, who nodded.

“It actually is. I didn’t think I had ever seen such a magical place the first time I saw it,” he mused, thinking back to his first untimely visit to the Burrow.

At that moment, Arthur Weasley bustled out of the house, hugging her daughter and surrogate children. He held out his hand formally to Mary and smiled,

“You must be Mary. Welcome to the Burrow. Please make yourself at home,” he said, leading the group into the kitchen. Ron was already sitting at the table, waiting for dinner to be served. At the sight of his girlfriend, he launched himself at her and kissed her.

“I missed you, ‘Mione,” he said smiling. Ginny rolled her eyes and made a show of clearing her throat.

“We have company, Ron. Behave yourself,” she admonished, in a fair imitation of Mrs. Weasley.

At this, Ron turned to see Mary looking at him with raised eyebrows, and his ears turned scarlet.

“Oh, um, hi.” He waved lamely. She beamed at him and took a seat at the table.

“Nice to meet you, Ron,” she said, looking at the startled redhead.

Within minutes, the seven of them were enjoying a home cooked dinner, and Mary was bursting with excitement.

“Merlin, Mrs. Weasley. I don’t think I’ve ever had such an amazing meal,” she exclaimed, helping herself to a second serving of mashed potatoes.

“I’m glad you think so, dear,” Molly answered, smiling through the small tears that threatened to break surface with her eyes. She made a mental note to knit the best jumper she could for this little girl.

When dinner was over, the younger people sat in the living room, a fire in the hearth. Harry noticed Mary was looking in awe as she took in the scene in front of her.  Harry had magicked two tiny snowmen to fence with each other on the coffee table, and every time one of them melted into nothingness, he would make another out of thin air, the older teenagers were just as impressed as Mary, and Ron was the first to speak.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry. I knew you were good at magic and all, but when did you become a god at non-verbal magic?” he exclaimed as one of the snowmen stabbed the other with a miniature sword, and the latter melted. Harry transfigured another snowman and shrugged.

“I forgot to tell you, I guess,” he said, and started retelling the conversation he had had with Dumbledore about his magical ability at the start of term. Ron looked gobsmacked.

“That’s amazing, mate. And you said you can produce a non-verbal Patronus too?” Harry nodded and Ron whistled. When Mary looked at Harry quizzically, he nodded again and produced a silver stag from the tip of his wand. The Patronus pranced around the room and came to a stop, surprisingly, at Mary’s side. The stag bent its head, which Mary tried to pat, before fading into nothingness. Mary looked at Harry with wide eyes and said.

“Wow, Harry. That was amazing. How come I haven’t learned how to do that?” She frowned, which caused the other four to laugh.

“That’s usually a spell you don’t learn until your sixth or seventh year, and sometimes not even then,” explained Harry, to the disappointment of the small girl. Ginny raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“What are you talking about, you could produce a corporeal Patronus at thirteen,” she said. Mary looked up hopefully at Harry, who frowned.

“Well, yeah, but that was because we had a school full of dementors, and Lupin thought I should know how to defend myself.” At the mention of his old Professor, a weight dropped in Harry’s stomach. He truly missed his father’s friend. He shook his head and blinked back tears. Now was not the time for sadness, he thought.

“Then, would you consider teaching me at some point?” Mary asked Harry tentatively. She had heard about Patronuses from her parents, but this was the first time she had seen one in person. The prospect of being able to produce one herself was enticing, to say the least.

Harry considered this for a moment. He knew it was extremely complicated magic, and he himself had only achieved it at thirteen after extensive practice. As he looked at the pleading eyes regarding him, though, he just couldn’t say no. He had to make some concessions though.

“Okay, I guess we could try,” he said, and Mary’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, “but not now. Maybe some other time. You’re still quite young, and I’m not sure how much progress you could make at eleven,” he explained. She nodded in understanding. She was disappointed, but she knew that Harry was right. If it was such a hard spell that only sixth and seventh years learned it, having a personal coach to teach her at twelve or thirteen would be an amazing and unique experience.

“Okay, Harry. Thank you,” she said, standing up and hugging him. He returned the hug in kind and looked at her.

“You’re welcome, little one,” he said, “now how about a game of Exploding Snap,” he added and took out the deck.

The following two days were filled with a flurry of guests arriving and several games of impromptu Quidditch. Mary turned out to be quite adept at flying, although she was not yet sure what her best position might be. As Harry watched her fly and score another goal, laughing and cheering, he was glad to know that the little girl was enjoying herself, though not as she had originally expected. His small reverie was broken when Charlie, the opposing team’s Seeker, zoomed past him and grabbed the small wooden ball they had bewitched to act as the Snitch. He cursed himself for the mishap but cheered up when he saw Charlie and Ron lifting Mary on their shoulders, celebrating their victory.

The night of Christmas’ Eve, Harry lay in bed, Ginny curled up to him. He sighed. It had been an exhausting day, and he was glad that tomorrow was Christmas Day. Ginny apparently sensed his happiness when she pressed herself against his body and smiled at him.

“You’re doing an amazing job with that little girl, you know,” she said.

“Thanks, Gin. That means a lot, coming from you,” he replied, grinning.

“Why’s that?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, when we comforted her together I started thinking about us, you know,” he explained, “our future together. I know I want my future to have you in it,” he said.

“I know, I do too,” she said, grinning and kissing his nose, “and there’s always that plan we had for the summer,” she added, raising her eyebrows.

“You’re right. I hope it goes to plan. I really don’t want to screw up,” he mused, and Ginny chuckled.

“You won’t, don’t worry,” she assured, and then had a thought, “hey Harry?”

“Huh?” he said, already dozing off.

“Have you ever thought about kids?” she inquired timidly. Harry opened his eyes wide and stared at her. She laughed and said, “not right now, silly. But I mean, would you like to have kids, someday?”

Harry sighed and thought about it. He had actually thought about that prospect a lot, actually, and it always involved Ginny as the mother of her children. Smiling, he said, “yeah, I would like that very much.”

“That’s great, Harry,” she exclaimed and kissed him deeply, “if someone had told me eight years ago that I would be in bed with Harry Potter discussing our future together I would have Bat-Boogeyed them for taunting me,” she said, giggling. Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her.

“If someone had told me two years ago I would even have a future, and with you no less, I wouldn’t have believed them...” he said softly, thinking about his destiny-ridden life back then, “yeah, I’d say I got pretty lucky,” he mused, sighing deeply.

“We both did,” she said before they both drifted off to sleep.

Across the hall, Mary lay in Bill’s bed. They had given her Bill’s old room since he would be dropping in tomorrow. Apparently, he had a surprise for the family. She was excited, to say the least. She couldn’t believe they would get her presents. They’d only met her three days ago, after all. She thought about what a lucky girl she was to have found such a caring teacher in one of the darkest years of her life, and smiled to herself as she drifted into a dream filled with dark monsters, with a dark-haired hero vanquishing them all.

The following morning, Mary sat up and jumped out of bed. In her excitement, she knocked over a lamp and it shattered. Cursing herself, she reached for her wand, before remembering that she wasn’t supposed to do magic. As she debated her options, she saw the pieces mend themselves and the lamp floated neatly onto the nightstand. Astounded, she turned around and saw Harry leaning on the doorframe, his arms folded and his wand nowhere to be seen.

“How did you–?” she started but stopped when Harry smiled.

“I thought I explained that earlier,” he said, not unkindly, “I’m starting to get the hang of wandless magic with small spells. You just gave me a great practice object, little one,” he smiled, as Mary finished dressing in casual clothes.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Around eight thirty,” he said, looking at his watch, “Mrs. Weasley is making breakfast downstairs.”

“Good, I’m starving,” she declared, following Harry down the stairs.

Two hours later, when everyone had either arrived or woken up, they were waiting for Bill to open the presents. Mary had seen the huge pile of presents and was astounded to see she had received a fair amount herself. Bill came into the kitchen and greeted.

“Morning, Weasleys. Merry Christmas.” He waved as everyone returned in kind. The Weasleys all sat up as they saw the most beautiful blonde woman she’d ever seen enter the kitchen sporting a round belly and a huge smile.

The Weasleys looked from her to Bill to Fleur and Mrs. Weasley let out a squeal of delight as she launched herself at her son and daughter-in-law, “Congratulations, you two. Oh, I’m going to be a grandmother!” she exclaimed joyfully. The Weasleys took this as their cue to congratulate their brother.

“So, Fleur, when are you due?” asked Ginny. She had told Mary about the rocky start to Ginny and Fleur’s relationship, and Mary wondered when they had gotten friendlier.

“Ze beginning of May. We didn’t tell you sooner beecause we zought we should be zertain first,” she explained. According to Ginny, Fleur’s English was improving. Mary looked at the exchange with awe. She had never had such a crowded Christmas, and she was thoroughly enjoying the warmth with which this particular family lived.

As the conversation of the incoming baby died down, they set down to open their presents. Mary, as their guest of honour, opened hers first. She received a Weasley jumper from Mrs. Weasley. She was awed by the detail. It was a deep navy blue, with a silver M knit on the front. Across the rest of the jumper were ravens that seemed to be flying across the fabric.

Mary put it on and thanked Mrs. Weasley with a big hug. From Hermione and Ron, she had received a set of books that she had mentioned she liked earlier, and Ginny got her a bunch of sweets, containing chocolate frogs, her favourites.

When Harry turned to her, he produced from his back pocket a diminutive package and handed it to her. She regarded it quizzically before he tapped his wand at it and it expanded. With wide eyes, she tore the package and revealed a new Nimbus 2002. Mary gasped at the inscription on the handle. It read ‘Mary Windsor. Little one.’ in cursive writing. Tears welled in her eyes and she looked at Harry.

“I noticed you took a great liking to Quidditch while we were here, so I took the liberty of buying a little something for you,” he said. Anything else he might have said was cut off when Mary launched herself at him and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she was saying, before pulling back.

“Hold on, isn’t this, like, super expensive? How can I accept this?” she asked incredulously as Harry held up a hand.

“Worry not, little one. It’s a gift, and you can’t return gifts,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you, Harry. This is amazing,” she answered, grinning from ear to ear. She cocked her head as she noticed Harry had another tiny parcel protruding from his pocket, “and who might that be for?” she asked, pointing at it. Harry blushed and pushed it down his pocket. Ron spoke up.

“Come on, mate. What is it?” he asked. As everyone had the same question on their face, Harry sighed and pulled a similar package to Mary’s from his pocket and handed it to Ginny. She regarded it quizzically as Harry enlarged it, and ripped the package. Mary saw as Ginny’s features contorted in a frown before jumping back and gasping, saying, “What the hell?”

“What? What is it, Ginny?” asked Mary, craning her neck to get a look at it over the wrappings. Ginny wordlessly pulled out the content of the present and showed it to everyone. There was a collective gasp from the Weasleys, Mary, and Hermione as they inspected it. In Ginny’s hands lay a Firebolt II, the newest and fastest broomstick in the market. Actually, it wasn’t in the market as of yet. It was announced to be launching the coming June. On the handle was the inscription ‘Ginny Weasley. Always.’ Ginny regarded Harry, who had a sheepish grin on his face.

“I knew you already loved Quidditch, of course,” he explained, “I was actually going to get you a Firebolt, but when those scouts dropped in on our match against Hufflepuff and I saw the way they looked at you, I just had to do it. You’re an amazing flier, Gin. And you deserve the best.” He was almost knocked off his feet as a flurry of red hair engulfed him in a hug and kiss.

She had a similar reaction as Mary had had, with the addition of a deep kiss on the lips. “You’re amazing, you know that,” said Ginny, grinning at him.

Harry shrugged ever so slightly and smiled, “I try.”

Later that afternoon, Ginny and Mary were testing their brand new brooms, zooming from one end of the yard to the other. Minutes later, Harry joined them on his own Firebolt. He had treated himself to a new broom, as he had lost his last one on his seventeenth birthday. On the handle, however, he had only inscribed the word ‘Snuffles.’ as his first Firebolt had been a gift from his godfather. He felt it appropriate to honour his memory this way.

The week following Christmas passed quickly, with many a game of Quidditch played over the snowy yard of the Burrow, often ending in a hot cup of tea by the fire. Two days after New Years, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Mary were boarding the train to go back for the second term at Hogwarts. Mary was holding onto her brand new broom and silently admiring it. Harry had told her that she could probably try out for her house team next year, but she wasn’t sure, given that she didn’t know what position best suited her. She had played all positions during her stay at the Burrow, but she hadn’t excelled at any in particular. She thought she had an idea of what position she wanted to play, though, and she said as much to Harry.

“Seeker? Really?” asked Harry, just as excited as she was, “that’s great, Mary. I could give you some pointers if you’d like,” he offered, to which she nodded. She had a feeling that this coming term would be even better than the last, and she sat back down on her seat, an image of her catching the Golden Snitch in her mind’s eye. _Yeah, I think that’s about right_ , she thought and braced herself for their arrival at Hogsmeade Station.


	11. Chapter 11

The days following their return from the Burrow, Mary was besieged by a flurry of questions from her friends. She told them all about what a nice family the Weasleys were and they were awestruck when she showed them her new broom. She didn’t tell them who had given it to her, at Harry’s request, and they spent the better half of the week trying to guess. Weirdly enough, they were not even close.

While this took place, Harry and Ginny started to ease back into the routine of their studies. Harry was set on doing something special for his second and third-year classes and talked to Hagrid about it. The first class back from Christmas break, Harry was walking through the grounds of Hogwarts, his first year class in tow. He stopped in front of Hagrid’s hut and knocked. A loud bark from Fang came from inside, and the door opened moments later, filled by the form of Hagrid.

“Mornin, Harry. I mean, Professor,” greeted Hagrid, shaking Harry’s hand. The students, even though they had seen Hagrid many times, were awed by the sheer size of the half-giant, “Back this way, if yer please,” he boomed, beckoning them to follow him to the back garden of his hut.

As they approached, two majestic hippogriffs stood in a pen, looking at the small first years with a piercing stare. All students stared at the animal with wide eyes and mouths open. Harry, noticing their apprehension, approached the bigger hippogriff slowly. Bowing deeply without breaking eye contact, Mary and her classmates watched in awe as the hippogriff returned the gesture and Harry walked up to it, patting his head,

“Hey, old friend,” he said.

“See there, kids. Tha’s how yer approach a tame hippogriff,” explained Hagrid to the awestruck students, “O’ course, this one here is Buckbeak. The Professor and him go back a long time,” he added as Harry walked back to the group and stood before them.

“So, who would like to try it?” he asked. After the initial shock of such an invitation, a small hand raised itself from the crowd.

“Miss. Windsor, follow me, please,” said Harry formally. They had discussed their relationship over the break and agreed that a student-teacher relationship, at least during classes and in the halls, was appropriate. Mary timidly approached Harry and followed him until they were standing twenty feet from Buckbeak, “now, bow and don’t break eye contact. Do not approach him unless he bows back,” Harry explained in her ear, and Mary nodded.

She took a step forward and slowly bowed to the majestic creature before her. When she came back up, Buckbeak regarded her for a second, before responding in kind. Mary’s face lit up, and she slowly walked up to him, patting Buckbeak below the neck, as she couldn’t reach much further. She giggled as the hippogriff knelt so that Mary could reach his head.

Boosted by their classmate’s confidence, the other students stepped forward and starting following Harry’s instructions with various levels of success. All of them were deemed worthy of a hippogriff’s respect; however, none were as bold as Mary, who eventually let Hagrid sit her atop Buckbeak. Harry warned him not to take flight, and the hippogriff settled for walking around the pen, to Mary’s enjoyment and her classmates’ amazement.

The rest of the month of January passed quickly, with more visits to Buckbeak’s pen by Harry and his different classes. Harry’s NEWT lessons were becoming more demanding, but he took it in stride. His extraordinary ability for magic helped him through the hardest spells with little more than a day’s practice. As he only had to concentrate on was the theory part of the incoming exams, and having Hermione as a best friend certainly helped. With the stress of having Snape breathing down his neck, Harry found that he was actually quite good at Potions, to Slughorn’s delight. Harry had so far avoided re-entering the Slug Club, claiming he wasn’t interested in more fame than he already had.

As February rolled around, the Gryffindor-Slytherin match did as well, and it was a hard-fought battle. Beth had advised Harry that he only catch the Snitch if they were up by fifty points or more so they could nearly guarantee the Quidditch Cup. And so, Harry soared over the players, scanning the field for a glint of gold, while simultaneously keeping track on the commentator’s shouts. So far, they were up one hundred and ten to seventy, and Harry caught a glimpse of the Golden Snitch around the Gryffindor goal posts.

Deciding that a forty point lead was more than enough, Harry dove for the middle of the pitch, catching the attention of the Slytherin Seeker. As the opposing player thought Harry had seen the Snitch, he followed close behind on his Comet One-Sixty.

Barely ten feet from crashing into the pitch, Harry did a perfectly executed Wronski Feint, except he barrel-rolled at the last second. A second later, and to the surprise of both Harry and the crowd, he was facing the other way, and with a clear shot to where the Snitch still hovered over the goal posts. A roar of cheering filled his ears as he shot forward, willing his Firebolt to push through the wind. The Slytherin Seeker had to pull up before he crashed into the pitch, but by the time he had turned around completely, it was too late. Harry was already fifty feet in the air, the fluttering ball clutched tightly in his right hand.

As Harry soared down to where his team stood celebrating, he was engulfed in a tight embrace by Ginny.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry! That was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that,” she exclaimed, kissing him deeply, wolf-whistles coming from the crowd. Two hours later, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione sat by the fire in the common room, discussing the match.

“Where did you learn that move, Harry?” asked Ginny, “I thought you were doing a Wronski Feint, but I’ve never seen anyone do that barrel roll and turn thingy,” she said, looking at him with a smile on her face.

“Dunno, Gin,” said Harry, shrugging, “I was about to do it normally, but I noticed if I did I would’ve ended up looking the wrong way, so I had to turn,” he explained. Hermione and Ginny were awestruck.

“You do know you did a one-eighty turn in less than a broomstick’s length, right?” asked Hermione, eyebrows raised.

“Like I said, I just thought about what I needed to do and tried to transmit my plan to the broom.” He shrugged again. “Apparently, it understood me, because next thing I knew, I was facing the Gryffindor goal posts.”

“Merlin, you could easily play for any professional team if you wanted to,” exclaimed Ginny beaming.

“What about you, Gin?” he replied, “I don’t know if you noticed, but those scouts were back and couldn’t get their eyes off of you. My guess is they recruit you before the year is out,” he said, wrapping his arms around Ginny.

“Do you really think I could do it?” she asked tentatively. She had considered that career path, but she felt she wasn’t good enough for a professional team.

“Are you kidding? You could probably play Ravenclaw blindfolded and you’d still score ten goals,” said Harry, kissing her and raising an eyebrow.

“Thanks, Harry. I really hope I do well,” she said, “I don’t even know what team would pick me up if the scouts liked me,” she mused, half to herself.

“Don’t worry about it, Gin. You’ll do just fine,” Harry promised.

Two weeks later, Harry and Ginny were walking down the path to Hogsmeade for their Valentine’s Day date. They had agreed they weren’t spending as much time as they’d hoped, so they wanted to spend the whole day together. Once inside the warmth of the Three Broomsticks, they found a booth and Ginny ordered two butterbeers. When she returned, Harry was holding a small package in his hands,

“Oh, Harry. You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, taking the package gingerly in her hands. It looked fragile.

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said, shrugging, “open it.”

When she did, she gasped. Inside was a beautiful silver necklace. Intricate designs filled the chain, and hanging from it was the reason for Ginny’s gasp. Adorning the necklace was a golden stag and horse, heads intertwined. Tears welled up in Ginny’s eyes and she looked at Harry. He explained.

“I know next year we will both have jobs of our own, and will probably see each other less.” Her face fell, even though she already knew that. “So, I got you this as a way for you to know that I will always be there for you.” He rubbed the side of his head. He had practiced telling her those words, which he had chosen meticulously. He knew they wouldn’t be together every day of the week once they left Hogwarts, and he wasn’t thrilled about the prospect. He wanted to convey how much he loved her in the simplest way he could think of.

“Harry, it’s beautiful. Thank you,” Ginny said, wrapping Harry in a hug and kissing him deeply, “I didn’t get you anything though,” she said, almost apologetically. Harry chuckled and kissed her again.

“Your love and patience is the best gift you could ever give me,” he said, smiling at her.

“Getting a bit sappy, are we, Mr. Potter?’ She laughed.

“Maybe I’ve always been like this but you’re only just now noticing, Miss. Weasley,” he retorted and she snorted.

“I love you, Harry,” she said.

“I love you too, Gin.”

After their memorable Valentine’s Day date, Harry and Ginny sank back into the boring routine of school again. Well, boring for Ginny at least. Harry was having the time of his life, testing the limits of his new-found abilities, and having long conversations with Flitwick about the possible ramifications of such power in Charms. To him, the months of March and April flew by in two seconds, and before he knew it, May the second arrived. A gloomy atmosphere fell over the student body and staff.

Tomorrow would mark the anniversary of Voldemort’s fall, and the day they had lost fifty-three friends and family. At breakfast, McGonagall made a small speech and informed them that the Minister would be coming by at dinner to make a small announcement. Harry and Ginny looked at each other. They knew full well what a ‘small announcement’ meant for Kingsley, and talked almost all day about the possible contents of this particular one.

Dinner was a very subdued affair, with little talk, as Kingsley sat at the staff table talking to McGonagall in whispered conversation. Harry kept glancing at the Ravenclaw table in search for Mary. He knew this would be a difficult time for her, as a year ago she had lost a parent. He thought about maybe doing another visit to Buckbeak’s pen in their next lesson to take his students’ minds off this date. He was brought back from his thoughts as McGonagall stood at the podium and asked for silence.

“Good evening, students. As you are all aware, we are accompanied today by Minister Shacklebolt.” She waved an arm at Kingsley as applause rang through the Hall. In the year that he had been in office, Kingsley had gained a reputation for being one of the best Ministers in quite a while. His forward-thinking views were seen as a welcome change from last year’s reign of terror. He raised a hand with a smile and walked to stand beside McGonagall.

“Thank you, thank you,” he boomed, his deep voice ringing through the Great Hall without the need for a Sonorus spell, “I would like to start by saying how proud I am of all of you. After the hard times we all endured last year, it gives me much joy to know that our future is in the capable hands of Hogwarts students,” he announced, to the roar of applause.

“Secondly, I would like to make my announcement. You may have noticed that one of the halls here at Hogwarts has been closed off to the student body since the start of term, under the pretence of extra repairs being required. I am here to happily announce that that was but a façade for an amazing surprise we have prepared for those that fought bravely, and for those that lost as much in the ultimate Battle,” he explained over the murmurs of confusion that spread through the Hall.

“We have decided, along with the Board of Governors, to rename that same hall to the Hall of Remembrance, effective immediately. It contains portraits of those that unfortunately cannot share with us the world they fought so bravely to create.” The murmurs became shouts of glee at this development. Ginny looked at Harry, tears in her eyes, and he knew what she’d say.

“We’ll be able to talk to Fred again, Harry!” she exclaimed, hugging him.

“I know, it’s amazing,” he said, dazed. He hadn’t even come close when he speculated what Kingsley would announce, and this was much more pleasant than the alternatives. He could talk to Tonks and Lupin. He could show Teddy his parents; the parents he hadn’t even been conscious enough to remember. With tears in his eyes, he returned the pressure to Ginny and listened as Kingsley continued.

“As of tomorrow, second of May, everyone who wishes to speak to the portraits will just have to walk into the corridor in the fourth floor, and they will contain all the memories of the people they depict. Just like regular portraits,” he exclaimed, taking his seat again at the staff table.

After the announcement, the rest of the meal passed quickly, filled with laughter and chats about what they would say to the portraits the following day. Harry even saw Mary’s face liven up at the prospect of being able to talk to her mother again, which made him smile to himself. When Harry and Ginny made their way to the common room, they curled up together on a couch in front of the fire and talked all night about what an amazing day this had turned out to be.

The following morning, Harry was awoken by an overly excited redhead jumping on top of him, kissing him and dazing him in one swift motion.

“Wha – Oh hi, Gin,” he said groggily. He grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and kissed Ginny again. He noticed Neville’s bed was empty, and he figured he had overslept, “Um, what time is it?”

“Just after nine o’clock,” she said, looking at her watch. It had been a gift from her parents for her seventeenth birthday, as it was a tradition for witches and wizards to receive a watch for their coming of age, “come on, sleepyhead. We’ll get some breakfast and then go see those portraits,” she said, standing up as Harry started dressing in casual clothes. Fortunately, it was Sunday, so they could spend all day in the Hall of Remembrance.

Ten minutes later, Harry sat silently eating a second serving of bacon and eggs, as Ginny talked about what she would say to her brother. He smiled at her excitement. He knew she missed Fred dearly, as the twins and she had been very close as kids, and the prospect of being able to talk to him again was obviously appealing to her. He told her that at some point he would have to leave her to talk to other portraits, and she smiled.

“Of course, Harry. We will meet up again at some point,” she said sweetly.

An hour later, Harry and Ginny stood at the entrance to the Hall of Remembrance. They scanned their surroundings. The corridor looked like any other; except the walls were lined with over fifty portraits with six feet between each, and a number of students were already walking along the corridor, stopping at one or another. Harry led Ginny to where the portrait of Fred Weasley, who was making faces at passersby until he noticed his sister walking towards her. His smile widened and he waved her over.

“Hey, there, troublemaker! Harry, how are you? Long time, no see,” he said, nodding at Harry. Their eyes began to mist over at the sight of Fred, and Ginny spoke up first.

“Oh, Fred. We’ve missed you so much, you have no idea,” she said, smiling despite the tears.

“I know, Gin. I’ve missed you guys too. The afterlife is not as fun as I’d hoped,” he rolled his eyes and looked down at their intertwined fingers, “ah, I see you’ve finally tied the knot. Forge and I always wondered when you’d man up and ask our baby sister out, Harry,” he quipped, making a show of winking at him. Harry chuckled and wrapped his arm over Ginny.

“Yeah, took me long enough,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “does that mean you approve?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fred snorted and nodded, “well, of course, we do. If I were alive, Forge would owe me ten galleons, actually,” he mused, scratching his chin. Fortunately, Ginny laughed rather than cried at the mention of his untimely death. Harry was relieved and turned to her.

“Hey, Gin. I’m gonna go talk to Tonks and Remus. I’ll see you later,” he said and, kissing the top of her head, strode over to the other side of the Hall, leaving Ginny to tell her brother about all the stuff that had happened that year. When he found them, he was surprised to see that they shared a portrait, slightly bigger than the rest. They probably couldn’t even stay apart, even in death. Harry smiled and looked at them.

“Hey, guys.” He waved lamely, and Remus and Tonks smiled brightly at him.

“Oh, Harry. How wonderful to see you well. We have both missed you,” Tonks exclaimed, tears threatening to break surface with her eyes.

“I’ve missed you too, Tonks. You too, Remus,” he added to Lupin, who smiled at him.

“You have grown into a fine young man, Harry. Prongs would be very proud of you.’

Tears filled Harry’s eyes at the mention of his father, and he remembered something.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t live to see your son grow up,” he apologized lamely. He had thought about bringing Teddy over if he ever had the chance.

“Me too, Harry. But we take solace in knowing that he will be loved beyond words. Not only by his grandmother but by his godfather,” Lupin said, nodding at Harry, who returned the gesture.

“You should see him, he’s already started to walk, although he falls over constantly, according to Andromeda,” he explained, laughing at the memory of Teddy’s moving picture, falling backwards as he tried to steady himself. Andromeda, Teddy’s grandmother and Tonks’ mother, had sent him that picture, and he showed it to Remus and Tonks. They both smiled through tears, though only Lupin could recover fast enough.

“He has Dora’s hair, hasn’t he?” he asked. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, he changes it constantly. Any time I saw him, he would change his hair to black and his eyes to green.” He chuckled. Teddy had shown his mother’s skill from a very young age, changing into a baby version of Harry when he held him at Harry’s birthday.

“I promise I will bring him by when I can,” he promised them, and they nodded,

“Take your time, Harry. We know how much work the seventh year can be, especially with so many distractions,” Tonks said, giving him a knowing smile as she looked over at Ginny, who was still talking animatedly to her brother. Harry blushed and rubbed his head.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said, and then saw someone else he wanted to talk to, “it’s been great talking to you guys. I’ll stop by when I can,” he said, waving as he approached a small blonde haired witch, who was talking to a dark-haired woman in a portrait. Mary’s mother had the same waist length hair as her daughter, although it was completely black. Her eyes were a soft hazel, and she looked to have been crying as her daughter talked about her first year at Hogwarts. Harry walked up to her and tapped Mary on the shoulder. When she turned, she jumped at him and hugged him tightly.

“Hey, Harry. This is my mum, Marietta Windsor. Mum, this is Harry Potter,” she told her mother, “he’s a friend,” she added proudly. Mrs. Windsor smiled at Harry and nodded.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry. Mary here was telling all about your Christmas present to her,” she said, a smile etched on her soft features, “that was very sweet of you. I want to thank you for taking care of my daughter now that I can’t,” she said sadly. Harry nodded and smiled back.

“It’s been my pleasure, Mrs. Windsor,” he exclaimed, “Mary is an extremely talented witch and a pretty good flier. I’m sure she’ll make her house team in no time,” he informed her, to Mary’s embarrassment.

“Oh, I don’t know, Harry,” she said softly, rubbing the side of her head.

Harry chuckled and squeezed her shoulder, “Oh, I do know, Mary,” he told her before turning to look at her mother. “I wanted to let you know that you have an amazing daughter, Mrs. Windsor.”

“Thank you, dear. She’s my angel,” she said, looking lovingly at Mary, who blushed, “and call me Marietta, Harry. I think you have earned that much,” she added, looking at Harry.

“Will do,” he told her, before excusing himself to let Mary go back to talking to her mother. When he got to the entrance, Ginny was looking at him with tears in her eyes.

“How can you make me fall in love with you over and over?” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“The same way you do, Gin,” he replied, kissing her and leading her out to the Great Hall, where lunch was about to be served. All in all, it had been a great day so far. Harry thought about how much Mary was growing and smiled to himself. She truly was a special little girl.

Harry and Ginny were startled out of their small talk when a wisp of silvery smoke trotted in their direction. Looking at it, they realised it was a wolf Patronus. Ginny recognized it as Bill’s and said as much to Harry. When it opened its mouth, the voice of Bill Weasley came out.

“Family, Victoire Weasley was born today, May Second.”


	12. Chapter 12

The birth of the first Weasley grandchild stirred a great amount of happiness in the family. Harry, Ginny, and Hermione couldn’t get out of school at the moment, as schoolwork started to mount ever higher, but they were looking forward to meeting the baby come summer. Ginny especially was excited to meet her niece for the first time.

In the weeks that followed the opening of the Hall of Remembrance, Harry visited Fred, Remus, and Tonks regularly. One weekend, with McGonagall’s permission, Harry walked up to Tonks and Remus’ portrait with Teddy walking slowly by his side, holding his and Ginny’s hand. At the sight of her son, Tonks dropped to her knees and started crying. Even though her face was streaked with tears, her smile had never been wider.

“Oh my god, Harry. He’s beautiful,” she exclaimed when they came to a halt in front of the portrait. Teddy examined the two people in it and looked back at Harry.

“Mama,” he said. He had started forming a couple of words, and Harry nodded at him.

“Yes, honey. I’m your mama,” said Tonks through a fresh batch of tears, “You have grown so much, my dear boy,” she exclaimed, as Teddy promptly changed his hair to bubblegum pink, matching his mother’s.

“Hello, son. I’m your dad, Remus,” Lupin said, kneeling beside his wife, and smiling at the baby.

Teddy’s hair changed once more, this time matching his father’s short brown one. Harry and Ginny chuckled behind him. He had taken a liking to change his hair to match whoever was speaking to him at the time, and this was no different. He had turned one shortly before the anniversary of the Battle, and they had unfortunately missed it. Harry had felt guilty, so he promised him a visit to his parents’ portrait to make it up to him.

Harry saw Ginny kneel beside Teddy as she talked to Tonks and Remus about all the things their baby boy had gotten up to this past year. He could see the love in Ginny’s eyes as she looked at Teddy, and wondered, not for the first time, how long it would be before she’d be doing that for their own children. He had been very uncertain about a lot of things in his life, like his career choice or whether or not he would survive the war, but this he knew for certain. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman; marry her, have children with her, grow old together. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced of this notion, and he loved it.

After an hour of reacquainting themselves, Harry led Ginny and Teddy to the Hogwarts gates, where Andromeda was waiting to claim her grandson and bring him home. She had already visited her daughter’s portrait before and wanted to give Teddy some space as he met his parents for the first time.

As they walked back to the common room, Harry kissed Ginny on the top of her head and whispered,

“I love you, Ginny.”

“I love you too, Harry,” she replied, kissing his nose and leading him through the portrait hole, where they curled up on their favourite spot until they fell asleep after hours of talking.

Mary, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. Her lessons were fun and informative. She loved to learn about the different aspects of magic that she had been hearing about through her parents nearly all her life. Her favourite subject was Defence Against the Dark Arts, of course. She and Harry had formed a closer bond since the Christmas break, and she felt comfortable talking to him about anything. She was amazed at how Harry could care about her, considering everything he must have on his plate. But that had never bothered Harry, and Mary noticed he made himself available to any and all students who sought him out after classes.

Mary was torn, however, between this feeling of elation at school and the feeling of sadness that her father was no longer sending her letters. She knew he was usually assigned to field work and it had always been hard for him to reach her then, but he had always found a way to let her know he was fine in the past. She hadn’t gotten a letter in two weeks, and she was feeling worried by that point. She said as much to Harry in one of their regular get-togethers, to which he nodded and explained.

“Mary, you know your father has a dangerous job. Aurors usually have to do reconnaissance or raids, in which they very rarely, if ever, get time to write a letter,” he said with a sympathetic smile, “I know you miss him, little one. And I know he used to write to you before, but you should have in mind that maybe he doesn’t want to bother you with whatever is troubling him,” he offered, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

“I know, Harry. It’s just hard, you know? Lately, I feel like I know you better than I know my dad,” she replied frowning. Harry would usually regale with her about his past and the ridiculously dangerous situations he found himself in his younger days. He found that once he talked openly about it, he could laugh about it with Mary. She found the stories absolutely amusing, and he would often add a fake detail to them, to see if she could discern fact from fiction. So far, she hadn’t been fooled once.

“I know what you mean, little one. Give him some time, and you’ll see he’ll come around,” he promised. She nodded, and they went back to discussing his misadventures during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She couldn’t believe it when he told her about his encounter with the Hungarian Horntail.

“Wait, so you outflew a _dragon_?” she asked incredulously. He nodded.

“Yup. Well I was extremely nervous and I had no idea what spell could work against a dragon, so I used the one thing I was good at. Flying,” he explained, shrugging. She was still looking at him wide-eyed.

“Wow, it must have been so cool,” she whispered, awestruck.

After that meeting, Mary lightened up about her father, and thoroughly enjoyed her lessons. She was top of her class in every lesson, and all the professors wasted no time in reminding her of it. After a month, her final exams were almost over, and after having completed her DADA exam, she shyly approached Harry when her classmates had left. He looked up at her and smiled.

“Don’t worry, little one. I haven’t seen them, but I’m sure you did great,” he said, stacking all the papers into a pile and leaned on his desk.

“It’s not that, Harry,” she replied, suddenly very interested in her toes, “I was wondering if you would teach me ho...” she muttered, barely above a whisper. Harry frowned and leaned in.

“I’m sorry, come again?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and spoke up, louder this time, “I was wondering if you would help me practice my flying?” she asked timidly. To her surprise, Harry chuckled.

“Well, of course, little one. I’d love to. I have some time tomorrow after lunch if you want. My NEWTs are finally over too, and I’ve never been more excited to take to the skies,” he offered. Mary nodded and smiled,

“Oh thanks, Harry. That would be amazing,” she answered before turning to him, “so how did you do in your NEWTs?”

“Pretty well, actually,” he replied and proceeded to tell her about his amazing Transfiguration performance, as he stood silently following the examiners’ instructions. Supposedly, they had never seen such extraordinary wandwork, and they told him so. His Potions exam was much more subdued, and Harry thought he had done quite well for himself, as he hadn’t exploded into a million pieces.

The Charms examiners, on the other hand, had talked to Flitwick about Harry’s natural talent for wandless and non-verbal magic. They had asked him, in the interest of extra credit, to conjure a non-verbal Patronus. He had indulged them, of course, and thinking about his first kiss with Ginny, a silver stag had pranced around the room, eventually standing by its caster, with a nod to the examiners. When he was finished, Mary had a huge grin on her face.

“Wow, Harry. That’s great, I’m sure you’ll do incredibly well,” she declared as they both exited the classroom and walked into the Great Hall for dinner.

The following afternoon, Harry stood at the tunnel leading to the Quidditch pitch, waiting for Mary. After twenty minutes, he saw her small figure bounding down the path that led to the stadium and flashed a great smile. With a quick hug, they both kicked off on their brooms and starting flying laps around the pitch. Harry spent the better part of an hour explaining to her the ups and downs of the Seeker position, as she listened to him with rapt attention.

Later, Harry was hovering near the ground, releasing the Snitch for her to catch and timing her. She was doing extremely well, finding the golden ball in just over half an hour. Three more hours passed, in which Harry timed Mary as she got to the point where she almost knew where the Snitch might fly off to next. A whistle brought Harry out of his reverie, and he turned on his broom to find McGonagall standing on the fringes of the stands, a grave expression on her face. _That can’t be good,_ he thought grimly. She beckoned for him to hover to the ground, and he called for Mary to keep practicing while he flew to McGonagall’s side.

Mary frowned but continued flying, the joy of diving for the Snitch never leaving her face. She laughed as she dove for the ball and overshot it and missed it by inches. Turning on the spot, she shot after the Golden Snitch and made a grab for it. She didn’t notice, however, that the two professors on the ground were regarding her with sad expressions on their faces. As she finally took hold of the ball, she whooped in triumph and looked around at Harry. Her joy vanished as she saw the haunted expression on his face, however.

Harry waved for her to come to him and she did so. When she landed, she looked between Harry and McGonagall, who had faces full of sympathy.

“What’s going on, Harry?” She forgot for a second that she was supposed to address him as ‘sir’ when in front of other faculty, but McGonagall didn’t seem to mind.

Harry seemed to hesitate before kneeling beside her and answering, “little one, something terrible happened,” he started, and he saw her visibly pale. He sighed before continuing, “Yesterday, the Aurors conducted a raid on a supposed Death Eater hideout, and your father was among them. I’m sorry, little one, but...” He hesitated, shutting his eyes and heaving a sigh. “He didn’t make it,’ he finished lamely as he engulfed her in a hug. He heard her gasp for a second before sobbing loudly into his shoulder. He whispered soothing words into her ear, as she shook from crying.

“I don’t understand,” she said through sobs, “you’re saying I don’t have any parents now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She had been so happy a minute ago. When had her world crumbled around her?

“I’m so sorry, little one,” he answered, before holding her at arm’s length. “But you’re not alone, you hear me?” he promised, “Me, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasleys will do anything we can to help you through this. _You will get through this_ ,” he declared, struggling to keep his own tears from flowing. He knew exactly what it was to grow up without parents, and he was not about to let this little girl live through the hell that he did.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said, defeated, her shoulder hunched. “I guess I should get used to this, right?” she mused, mostly to herself. Harry pursed his lips and looked down at the girl. She was fidgeting with the hem of her flying robes, humming something unintelligible, the broken shell of the girl she was not five minutes ago. It made his heart shatter in a million pieces. He looked at her and asked,

“Will you be okay for a moment while I talk to the Professor? I’ll be back in a second,” he promised. Mary shrugged lamely and with a final sad smile, Harry turned around and spoke to McGonagall, out of earshot from Mary.

“Professor, does Mary have any other family?” he asked, a plea evident in his voice. McGonagall shook her head.

“I’m afraid not, Harry. All her grandparents have been gone for quite a while and both her parents were only children,” she explained, frowning as Harry’s face filled with determination.

“Say, would it be possible for me to, uh, become her guardian? She could come live with me in the summer, and I’d provide for her as best I could,” he asked hopefully. McGonagall seemed to consider this odd request and looked at Mary over Harry’s shoulder, and then back at the man in front of her. She sighed.

“I guess you could. And they’d probably give you permission, as long as she accepts it, of course,” she mused, only half to herself. Harry’s face lit up for a second before he turned to the small crying girl.

“Hey, little one?” he asked, waiting for her response. To his surprise, she lifted her head and gave him a sad smile. _So young and yet so used to despair_ , he realised with a pang.

“Yes, Harry?” she said, cocking her head to the side in confusion. Her cheeks were tinged with red from crying

“I know this is difficult for you, and I’m really sorry,” he started. She sighed and nodded for him to continue, “But how would you like for me to become your guardian?” Before she could answer, he added, “I wouldn’t want you going through this alone.” He knew this was as much her decision as it was his. To his relief, her face split into a grin, albeit tearful.

“Wow, really? You’d do that for me?” she asked incredulously and Harry nodded.

“Of course, little one. I have come to love you like the little sister I never had,” he said, smiling too.

“Wow,” she breathed, looking down. She looked back into his green eyes and raised an eyebrow, “does that mean that I would go and live with you?” she asked hopefully. Again, Harry nodded.

“Well, for now, it would be at the Burrow if Mrs. Weasley is okay with it. That is until I get a place of my own, and you’d officially move in with me,” he explained, and anything else he might have said was cut off by Mary flinging her arms around his neck and whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” into his ear. He looked back at McGonagall, who was now smiling at him. How this man had turned out to be the generous wizard he now was after what his uncles made him live through, she couldn’t tell.

“Now, what say we go back to the castle and have some tea?’ Harry asked the girl, whose face grew solemn as she nodded and followed the two adults back inside. Mary had always been a glass-half-full kind of person, and what better test of that than this? _Could Harry really become her legal guardian?_ she wondered, the beginnings of a shy smile etched on her face. She loved her professor and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was that he would do this for her. She made a mental note to congratulate Ginny on scoring such a kind person.

The next day in the Gryffindor common room, Harry was retelling the story of last evening’s events to Hermione and Ginny. They both had tears in their eyes by the time he finished, and Ginny hugged him tightly.

“Oh, Harry, that was amazing. Of course, she can come live with us,” she told him before turning to look at Hermione, who was eyeing them both suspiciously.

“ _Us?_ What do you mean by _us,_ Ginny?” she asked slowly, looking from Harry to Ginny. They both looked at each other before Ginny answered.

“Well, of course. Us, the Burrow,” she said defensively. Hermione, however, was not convinced.

“Are you planning something, you two?” she inquired, leaning forward on her seat. Harry looked at Ginny and sighed before speaking up.

“Okay, Hermione. We’ll tell you, but you can’t say a thing to anyone, understood?” he said, suddenly growing serious.

“I swear,” she said immediately before thinking about it, “What about Ron?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Especially not Ron. This is something we’ve been planning since Harry’s birthday,” Ginny said, smiling at her boyfriend. Hermione considered this and nodded.

“Okay, I won’t tell a soul. What is it?” she promised.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other before answering in unison.

“We’re moving in together.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and for a second she was rooted to the spot, “Oh my god, this is amazing!” she exclaimed, hugging each of them, “Where are you going to live, though? I thought you didn’t want to use Grimmauld Place,” she asked Harry. He nodded and leaned forward.

“Here’s the thing. Sirius didn’t just leave me a huge load of money,” he explained, “the Black Family Fortune also contained a number of estates and lands, that are now legally mine,” he said seeing Hermione’s shocked expression.

“How many estates and lands?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. This time, Ginny answered.

“Twenty-three.” Hermione gasped but recovered quickly, edging closer for another question.

“So which one will you use?”

“Well, one of these is just on the edge of Ottery St. Catchpole,” Harry said, before continuing, “I’ve been talking to Gringotts and they agreed to help me find a firm that could build the house since the land is currently bare. Remember that time I ran off from the Great Hall in a rush?”

“Yeah?” Hermione said.

“That was Bentle and Barnes, responding to my letter. They agreed to build the house, as per our requests,” Harry explained proudly. Hermione was still confused.

“What requests? How did you even meet up with them while you were here?” she asked, and Ginny answered once more.

“Any time you didn’t come with us to Hogsmeade, or you were too busy with Ron, we would set up a meeting and discuss the plans at the Three Broomsticks,” she said.

“Sneaky,” conceded Hermione, “So how is it looking?”

“It should be finished by the end of the summer,” Harry said, frowning when he realised how little time they had left.

“And what requests did you make?”

“Well, Harry and I discussed a number of things,” Ginny said, “first, we wanted Kreacher to have a room of his own; Harry tells me he has become nicer since the last time I saw him.” Hermione could have burst into tears right then, but she let Ginny continue. “We also want at least two children, so the house will have five bedrooms, one being a guest bedroom,” she explained.

“It will, of course, be open to expansion, if the circumstances require it,” Harry explained before thinking and looking at Ginny, “I guess Mary can use one of the rooms reserved for the kids, since we’re not having those any time soon,” he said with a chuckle, “Are we?” he asked her, concern flashing in his eyes.

As Hermione’s eyes went wide with shock at the sneaky revelation, Ginny laughed, “No, we’re not. Don’t you worry about that,” she said, at which Harry relaxed. Hermione decided not to mention their second slip up and inquired the couple about something else.

“So when are you going to tell your family?”

“We were thinking about after Ginny’s birthday, maybe,” he shrugged, “I just hope your brothers don’t kill me dead.” He gulped.

“If they kill you, I kill them. Let me handle my brothers,” Ginny assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. He would actually have to talk to Arthur about it beforehand, just in case. Maybe even kill two birds with one stone while he was at it, Harry thought. But that was something he’d have to think about later. Now he just contented himself with discussing the finer points of their new house with Hermione. He braced himself for the coming hearing, where the Wizengamot would determine if he’s apt for being Mary’s guardian. _Later_ , he told himself, _later_.


	13. Chapter 13

“We did it! Harry got it!” Mary burst through the door of the Burrow, a huge smile on her face, and she almost ran into Mrs. Weasley, who embraced her.

“Congratulations, dear,” she said looking at Harry. He nodded, still smiling himself. It had been two stressful hours in which the Wizengamot asked him all sorts of questions about how he would care for the girl and her needs. He didn’t want to admit that he was the single biggest account in Gringotts, so he just assured the court that he had more than enough money to provide for Mary’s scholarship, and then some. He had had to explain why he took an interest in her, and after he did he had to stand outside while they all debated for another hour. He was just glad it was over.

“Yeah, it was quite tricky, but we did it. I am now Mary’s legal guardian,” he said proudly, as Mary beamed at him. The last week had been hard for her, having to attend her father’s funeral and then telling her mother about his death. Harry had been there for her every step of the way, and she had endured it with a maturity Harry hadn’t thought she had.

“That’s wonderful, Harry. Now what say we get you two all fed up before you go back to Hogwarts?” she said, to which Harry and Mary nodded enthusiastically. They had been given permission by McGonagall to leave by Floo to attend the hearing, and they were to come back no later than three o’clock in the afternoon. As they ate, Mary lifted her head and looked at Harry quizzically.

“Does this mean that I have to call you dad now?” she asked, and Harry laughed at her innocence.

“No, little one. You can call me whatever you like, but Harry would be best I guess,” he explained, patting her arm gently, “I wouldn’t want to be called dad for some time now,” he added as an afterthought, looking at some point far off.

Mary nodded and went back to her food. She made a point of congratulating Mrs. Weasley on her amazing cooking. Molly just laughed and smiled at her.

“Oh, dear, I’m glad you enjoy it. Remember you’ll be getting a lot of this over the summer,” she reminded her and Mary beamed. Harry had arranged for Mary to stay with them at the Burrow, at least until his and Ginny’s house was finished. Of course, he had skipped mentioning the house to Molly, for now. First, he needed to talk to Arthur.

After they were done, Harry led Mary to the fireplace and preceded her in Flooing to McGonagall’s office. Seconds after he appeared, Mary tripped out of the fireplace and Harry caught her. He smiled at her and said,

“Never got used to it, did you?”

“Nope. Never have, never will,” she said, smiling. They greeted McGonagall and made their way to the Great Hall. Once they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Ginny and Hermione came hurrying towards them.

“And? Did you get it?” Ginny asked expectantly, taking in Harry and Mary’s joyful expressions.

“Yup, we did it. You’re looking at Mary’s guardian,” he said, smiling at his girlfriend.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, hugging both Harry and his ward, “Did they ask you lots of questions?”

“Some, I think they didn’t want to argue with Harry Potter, to be honest,” he said, shrugging. This got eye-rolls from all three girls, and Hermione said.

“Well, just in time, tonight’s the Leaving Feast, remember?”

“Wow, I didn’t think about it,” Harry said, looking down at his hands, “I can’t believe we’re actually leaving Hogwarts for good.”

“It will be weird not coming back here in September,” said Hermione wistfully.

“Actually, I don’t even know what you’re doing after we finish school, Hermione,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow at her. She had the grace to blush.

“Well, it’s not final until I get my NEWT grades.” Harry, Ginny, and Mary all shared a look that clearly said: “Like that’s gonna be a problem”. “But I will be starting at the Department of Regulation Magical Creatures. Hopefully that way I’ll get started on pushing for bills to further help the other magical races in their struggle to get more rights,” Harry nodded and placed a hand on her arm.

“You’ll do amazingly, Hermione,” he said, smiling at her.

“Thanks, Harry,” she replied.

“Hey, since we have like three hours to start getting ready, how about we do some flying?” Ginny asked Harry and Mary, both of whom nodded enthusiastically. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup by a great margin; thanks alone to Ginny, if Harry was to be believed. She had had the match of her life, scoring a whopping one hundred and sixty points herself of the final score of four hundred and twenty to one hundred and ten. The threesome was about to stand up and walk to the pitch when McGonagall stepped up to them.

“Good afternoon, Miss Weasley,” she said, “would you care to accompany me to my office, please?” she asked. Ginny looked apprehensive.

“Is something wrong?” she asked tentatively. These days, you had to be prepared for the worst at all times.

McGonagall smiled at her and shook her head. “Oh, quite the opposite, Miss Weasley. Follow me, please.” With that Ginny shrugged and followed the Headmistress, with a look over her shoulder to Harry. He gave her a reassuring smile and turned to Mary.

“Well, little one, I guess it’s just you and me again,” he said, and Mary nodded happily.

“Sure, Harry. Let me go get my broom and I’ll meet you at the pitch in five?” she exclaimed.

Harry nodded and she bounded off to her dormitory. As Harry’s broom was already at the pitch, he walked alongside Hermione to the stadium. She sat down in the stands, as she had nothing much better to do, and Harry mounted his broom and started doing laps. After ten minutes, Mary appeared at his side, mounting her Nimbus 2002 and smiling at him. Harry waved at her and yelled over the wind.

“How about a little race?” Mary nodded and they were off. As Harry had the faster broom, he took it easy and let her have a little head start. Apparently, he got too cocky, as five minutes later Mary was whooping excitedly.

“I beat Harry Potter! I beat Harry Potter!” she was chanting, much to Harry and Hermione’s amazement. She seemed very happy at the moment, Harry thought. After the year she had lived, he thought she deserved it. After their impromptu race, the result of which Mary wasted no chance in mentioning, they started practicing with a Snitch. They asked Hermione to release it at the middle of the pitch and they both hovered by opposing goal posts. This was where Harry shone, of course, and within five minutes, Harry was mocking his ward, a fluttering Snitch clutched in his right hand.

“I beat Mary Windsor! I beat Mary Windsor!” Mary rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him, which made him smile. They played for the better part of two hours, at the end of which the score stood seven to one. Harry kept swearing Hermione must have bewitched the Snitch at that last one so Mary would have a chance. Both women shared a knowing smile and promptly laughed at Harry’s expense.

While they were landing and dismounting their brooms, Harry saw Ginny running down the grounds towards them at full speed. Knowing how much force she could put into a charge, Harry braced himself for impact. After a few seconds, Ginny crushed into Harry, who despite his best efforts collapsed onto the ground. They both stood laughing for a few moments before Harry asked,

“What’s the matter, love? Something good I hope?” Ginny’s face lit up at the word love, but she shook her head and smiled at Harry.

“Oh, Harry. The most amazing thing just happened. When I got to McGonagall’s office, guess who was there.” He shook his head. “Gwenog Jones!” she screamed. Harry still didn’t know who that was and said as much. Ginny rolled her eyes and explained, “Gwenog Jones is the captain of the Quidditch team Holyhead Harpies! She said I have potential, and I signed a contract to start as first team Chaser in September!” She was practically screaming in his face, so Harry got the message loud and clear, literally. He lifted Ginny in his arms and spun her around.

“Oh my god, Gin. That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, “I knew you’d get a chance. And what a chance! The Holyhead Harpies have been your favourite team since you were five,” he said, to which Ginny nodded.

“I know, I’m so excited. Plus, the pay is really good. Not that we really need it, but knowing that they put that much trust in me is great too,” she explained. Mary now hugged Ginny and asked,

“How much are they paying you, Ginny?”

“Um, 150,000 galleons a year,” she said. Mary’s eyes went wide as plates and she gasped.

“Merlin’s beard. I knew you were amazing, but I didn’t even know professional players made that much,” she exclaimed. All three adults laughed, and congratulations extended for a couple more minutes.

At seven thirty, Harry and Ginny were walking slowly down the corridors to the Great Hall. They were taking it all in, as this was the last time they would walk these halls as Hogwarts students.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Eight years ago, I didn’t even know this world existed,” Harry said after a while, “now I’m leaving school, having defeated Voldemort, and in a relationship with the most beautiful witch in the world,” he said wistfully as if she wasn’t even there. She punched him playfully on the arm and sighed.

“I know what you mean. Who would have said we would make it this far?” she mused and they both laughed. When they arrived at the Great Hall, they took their places at the far end of the Gryffindor table, waiting for the Leaving Feast to commence. They saw McGonagall stand up and walk to the podium to address the student body.

“Another year has come and gone. And what a year it has been,” she exclaimed, ensuing laughs from the crowd. “I’m very proud of the effort and patience all of you have demonstrated during the first year after the war. I know it must have been difficult for you, as it was for us teachers. First things first, though, traditions must be upheld, and the House Cup must be awarded,” she said, and everyone fell silent.

“In fourth place, with three hundred and seventy-four points, Hufflepuff,” she said as the students clapped. “In third place, with four hundred and seven points, Slytherin.” When she said this, more cheering ensued, mostly from the Gryffindor table; old enmities were hard to break. “In second place, with four hundred and fifty-two points, Ravenclaw,” she exclaimed, and the cheering from the Gryffindor table almost drowned out her saying, “and in first place, with four hundred and ninety-one points, Gryffindor!” Now it was time for a roar of students to clap their hands as the cheering continued. Harry could see Mary beaming at him, clapping along with her housemates.

“Yes, congratulations, Gryffindor,” McGonagall said when everyone had quieted down, “I wish to impress upon you once more how proud I am as Headmistress of this school to have seen you all working hard throughout the year, and I look forward to seeing you again come September. To our smaller group of seventh-years, I bid farewell to you, and hope that you achieve everything you set out for yourselves in your life.” More cheering followed, and many elder Gryffindors congratulated Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Neville for graduating. “Very well, I have taken enough of your time, tuck in.” As she said this, the platters filled with great food, provided by the house-elves of Hogwarts.

The Feast passed pleasantly, as Harry and Ginny enjoyed their last meal as students. Mary came up to him at one point and hugged him, with a whispered “congratulations” and a smile. She did the same for Ginny and Hermione and returned to her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her classmates were still not used to the idea that their friend was Harry Potter’s ward. Harry was almost lost in thought as a voice spoke to him. “Congratulations, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, smiling at him, “Would you please accompany me to my office. There is someone who would very much like to meet you,” she added, and with a nod, Harry followed her to the Headmistress’s office. Once inside, Harry noticed two people sitting by the fire.

The first was none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was wearing a big smile and had his hands clasped on his lap. The second man was someone Harry didn’t know. He was of average height, with short brown hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in grey robes, with an emblem of an A embroided where his heart was. He was regarding Harry with interest, a small smile playing on his lips. He gave Harry a nod as he shook his hand. Harry returned in kind and sat down opposite the two men.

“Harry, my boy. It is good to see you again,” Kingsley boomed, shaking Harry’s hand with enthusiasm, “let me introduce to you Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Department at the Ministry,” he said, waving a hand at the man to his left.

Harry nodded at Robards and spoke up, “it’s an honour to meet you, sir.” To his surprise, Robards laughed.

“Ah, Kingsley, I see you didn’t overstate this young man’s modesty,” he said, and turned to Harry again, “the pleasure is all mine, Harry. Call me Robards,” again Harry nodded.

“Harry, we came here to inform you that you have been accepted into the Auror training program, and will be starting on September tenth, under Mr. Robards’ division,” he said with a smile. Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I thought I needed to have all four NEWTs to get accepted, and I have only taken my exams three weeks ago,” he exclaimed. Once again, the older men laughed, but it was Robards that spoke this time,

‘Harry, we monitored your results closely. We cannot yet tell you what you got, per se, until your letter arrives in two weeks time. But, what we can do is tell you that you passed all exams, and we have decided to brief you on the required information to start your training next term. I daresay you might even finish training before the rest of the recruits if our intel is reliable,” he added, smiling as he unclasped his hands and produced an envelope from his coat.

“This is the information you need regarding the training you will endure. In there are timetables for the coming term, plus a list of topics and exercises that you will be put through,” Robards explained, pointing at every point as he went. Harry just nodded and looked at the parchment in the envelope. He examined it and looked up at Kingsley.

“I thought Auror training was a three-year program, why does this say mine will be two years?” he asked, frowning. He didn’t like being given special treatment. Kingsley nodded his understanding and explained.

“We’re not giving you any special treatment, Harry. That says two years for two simple reasons,’ he said. “First, your natural magical abilities far exceed the need for a third year in your training. It just wouldn’t make sense to put you through topics you already know. Secondly, as you may already know, the Auror office is currently somewhat understaffed,” he added, an apologetic look on his face.

“There are a total of ten Aurors, excluding myself, currently employed at the Ministry. With the three that will be graduating this year, we just don’t have enough people. Plus, from what I hear, you are probably more skilled than most of my Aurors without even having trained with them,” he added with a mischievous grin. The prospect of adding Harry Potter to their ranks suited him to a tee, and Kingsley had personally vouched for the kid’s ability.

Harry considered this and decided that this was indeed not special treatment, but a helping hand for both him and them. He nodded and looked at the two men, “I would love to join the Aurors, sirs. Count me in,” he said enthusiastically. Both adults visibly relaxed and shook hands with the young man. As the finer details of the training were sorted, Harry was dismissed. He walked back to the common room, where Ginny was waiting for him in front of the hearth, a small smile on her face.

“So, how’d it go?” she asked. Harry sighed and told her all about the meeting he had just had with Kingsley and Robards. She smiled and hugged him. “That’s great, sweetheart. I know you’ve always wanted to be an Auror, and now you’ll get to be one much faster,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mused. Ginny frowned and looked into his green eyes.

“Is something bothering you?” she asked, taking his hand.

“Not really, I was just wondering about something McGonagall said to me before I left,” he said, “she said if I ever changed my mind about this Auror business, I always had a place here as a Professor,” he explained. She stared at him.

“And what’s wrong with that, love? It’s great to have a job you can fall back on if the first doesn’t work out,” she pointed out.

“I know, it’s just, imagine how hard it would be for our children if the famous Harry Potter was their father, only to have to see me at school and having to treat me like I’m just another Professor,” he said, frowning.

At this, Ginny laughed and said, “Don’t worry about our children, Harry. That won’t change the fact that we will love them to bits. What of it if the world expects too much of them. Let them expect it. As long as they’re happy, it won’t matter.”

“I guess you’re right,” he mused.

“I’m always right, Harry,” she corrected and Harry laughed.

“I’ll try to remember that,” he teased, kissing her deeply. She kissed him back as they walked upstairs to celebrate their last day of school in their own way.


	14. Chapter 14

The Hogwarts Express was bounding its way back to London. Harry had spent the last hour looking out the window, taking in their surroundings, as if to commit it all to memory. This was their last time aboard the scarlet steam engine. He felt a surge of nostalgia, remembering the first time he had found his way inside this same compartment, meeting his best friend, Ron, for the first time. He looked away from the window and into the beautiful face of a sleeping Ginny. He thought about just how lucky he had been to have found the Weasleys that day at King’s Cross Station. Mary, who was sitting across from them next to Hermione, picked up on his look of longing.

“Sickle for your thoughts, Harry?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Not much, little one,” he answered, sighing, “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have found you all, that’s all.”

“The feeling is mutual, you know?” Hermione informed him matter-of-factly, while Mary nodded vigorously. This made Harry smile despite himself. The girl had lost both her parents in the span of little over a year, and here she was, worrying about him.

“Well, at least you get to board the train again come September, little one,” he reminded her, and her face lit up a little.

“True, but it won’t be the same without you three,” she said sadly. Harry leaned in and grinned.

“We have all summer to make up for it, don’t we? Let’s just make sure it’s a good one,” he told her, winking. At this, Mary smiled knowingly and giggled softly, glancing at Ginny, and then Hermione. The latter squinted and regarded Harry.

“Are you sure you’re not planning anything else on the side, Harry?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow. Harry, however, was expecting this and donned a face of total innocence.

“Nope, just the house, for now, Hermione,” he replied, smiling when Hermione glanced at the smaller girl, “Mary has been helping us with the plans for some time now. She’s actually quite the artist. Right, little one?” he said. Mary shrugged and grinned.

“I suppose. I just hope it turns out okay,” she mused, looking out the window. The mountain scenery had been replaced with green fields, and it looked beautiful. “Speaking of which,” she added, taking out a piece of muggle paper and pencil, “this view could make for a great painting,” she concluded happily, sketching out the fields as Harry and Hermione exchanged a look.

Thirty minutes before they were due to arrive in London, Ginny woke up stretching and yawning profusely. She looked around at the bemused expressions on her friends and boyfriend, “What?” she asked.

“You’ve been sleeping since we got on the train, Gin,” Hermione informed her, “Why are you so tired, anyway?” she inquired. Now it was Harry and Ginny’s turn to share a knowing smile, blushing as they struggled to contain their laughter. Hermione made a show of rolling her eyes and slumped back in her seat.

“Okay, I get it,” she exclaimed before adding, “beat me over the head with it,” under her breath. Mary looked between the three adults, a question on her face. Harry smiled and shook his head.

“Never you mind, little one,” he told her. She huffed and crossed her arms, slumping back beside Hermione. Harry and Ginny just smiled at each other, as they started talking about the plans for their future home.

When they arrived at King’s Cross Station, the foursome was greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who alternated her hugs between Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Mary. Next to her had been Ron who, at the sight of her, wrapped Hermione in a tight embrace and a deep kiss. After a couple of minutes, they broke apart as a cough brought them back to reality. They turned to see Harry looking at them, raising an eyebrow.

“Oi, there’s a war going on there!” he mocked, to which the couple blushed, and then promptly laughed. Ginny and Mary looked at Harry quizzically and he answered, “when they shared their first kiss, _finally_ , it was in the middle of the Battle, and that was all I could do to tear these two apart.”

Ginny laughed and looked at her brother and her best friend, “took you long enough,” she told them. They both shrugged and followed the rest out of the platform. Once out on the street, the five teenagers took a seat at the back of the magically enlarged Ministry car, while Mrs. Weasley took the passenger seat. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up on the dirt road leading to the Burrow.

The sense of awe in Mary’s face had not vanished since the last time she had seen the marvellous contraption, and she was still smiling when the small group made their way into the kitchen. Mr. Weasley was waiting inside, a cup of tea in his hand. He greeted everyone while they took their place at the table and waited to Mrs. Weasley to bring out the food.

The meal was a special one, as Mrs. Weasley had insisted on treating everyone to a small feast in celebration of their graduation, and of Mary finishing her first year. After the meal, as everyone was talking about their year, Harry beckoned Mr. Weasley to follow him outside. Arthur did and smiled at Harry when they stepped onto the porch.

“What is it, son?” he said.

“Mr. Weasley, I’d like to ask you something,” Harry started, shuffling his feet awkwardly but never breaking eye contact with the older man. Arthur nodded and said,

“Anything, Harry.”

“I would like Ginny to move in with me,” he explained, taking in Arthur’s reaction. To his surprise, he smiled and clapped his shoulder.

“I would say you are too young to be making these decisions,” he began and Harry grimaced, “but then again, Molly and I started our lives together at the same time Ginny and you did,” he mused, remembering his younger days. “Where were you planning on living, if you don’t mind me asking?” he inquired.

Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding and telling Arthur everything about his and Ginny’s plan to build a house in Ottery St. Catchpole, and the progress the builders had done already. Arthur nodded and said,

“Well, I guess Molly will be thrilled to know you’re so close to home. That ought to convince her, anyway. And it seems you have done a lot of forward-thinking,” he added, nodding at Harry.

“That I have, sir. I love Ginny with all my heart and I want to do right by her,” he said proudly. Arthur had a moment of increased respect for the young man in front of him, and he said so.

“Thanks, Arthur,” he replied, “now how about we go back inside before Ginny thinks we’re up to something,” he joked, and Arthur followed him inside, a smile on his face.

The following weeks, Harry and Ginny were inseparable. As Molly and Arthur had already reluctantly approved of the seriousness of their relationship, to Molly’s chagrin, they had started sharing Percy’s room every night. They would spend days walking along the fields and eventually sitting down at their favourite spot under a tree at the edge of the pond.

They did manage to fit time into their very busy schedule to visit Bill and Fleur, congratulating them profusely for their daughter. She was beautiful, they said, locks of silvery blond hair adorned the slightly chubby face of Victoire. Bill repeatedly sighed and thanked Merlin that she took after her mother and Fleur slapped him playfully on the arm.

Harry managed to get Teddy to visit with his pseudo-cousin, seeing as they would be seeing a whole lot of each other over the following years. Both Bill and Harry were extremely pleased that the babies hit it off, or at least they thought they did. Victoire - Vee for short – would sit shakily as Teddy examined her from every possible angle, a quizzical expression on his face. Ginny and Fleur both thought that they would probably make a cute couple at some point, to which Bill and Harry frowned. They didn’t want to think about that right now, they agreed silently.

One day, as Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were having breakfast, three owls fluttered in through the open window. Hermione jumped as they all landed in front of her, nearly knocking her bowl of cereal off the table. As Ron laughed, Harry untied the letters from the owls’ legs and looked at the envelopes. They had the official Ministry seal on them and they all opened them eagerly.

“It’s our NEWT results,” Hermione exclaimed happily. She took out the parchment and started reading it, her eyes darting back and forth as she reached the bottom and beamed at her boyfriend, who took the parchment and gasped.

“Bloody hell, Hermione. You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said incredulously. Harry and Ginny both looked at him.

“What?” Harry asked.

Ron showed them the parchment and said, “ten Outstandings, they say no one’s gotten that much since Dumbledore,” he said proudly, to which Hermione blushed.

At that moment, Harry and Ginny opened theirs. Ginny, of course, didn’t concern herself with the fact that she only got an Acceptable in all subjects but DADA, where she got an Outstanding. She had a career with the Harpies ahead of her, after all. Harry, on the other hand, was shocked to see he had gotten four Outstandings, counting the one Kingsley had given him the previous summer. Hermione was positively beaming,

“That’s amazing, Harry! I think you deserve that, considering,” she told him encouragingly. The rest of the day was spent informing the family of their efforts, and Mrs. Weasley congratulating them all profusely.

Mary was also having the time of her life. Harry and Ginny would usually include her in their activities, as they practiced Quidditch and Harry coached them both, to the best of his abilities. She spent a good deal of time with Mrs. Weasley, learning how to cook from the master herself. She had become quite adept at making sweet rolls, and the rest of the family made a show of enjoying them soundly every time she served them at dinner. Harry was feeling like he already had a pretty amazing family, but he felt something was missing.

The answer to his problem came the week before his birthday, when he woke up to a note on his nightstand, informing him that Ginny had gone to Diagon Alley with her mum and Mary for groceries. His eyes grew wide with opportunity. When he stepped into the kitchen he saw Mr. Weasley sipping a cup of tea, deep in conversation with Charlie, who had come to London for a few days for business. Some dragon or other, Harry thought. He greeted them quickly and had a small breakfast.

When he was done, he asked both men to sit down, before he produced four quick Patroni, bearing the same message. Mr. Weasley and Charlie were surprised, but they knew better than to argue with Harry when he was excited about something, which he apparently seemed to be. They didn’t even comment on the fact that Harry had just produced four non-verbal Patroni simultaneously without breaking a sweat. Harry paced the living room for about half an hour before he heard four faint ‘pops’ from outside and he sighed in relief.

Seconds later, the kitchen door opened to reveal Ron, George, Percy, and Bill. The four of them looked around curiously and spotted Harry looking at them expectantly. Bill spoke first.

“Hey Harry, what is it? Your Patronus said to come quickly,” he sounded alarmed. Harry shook his head and motioned the Weasleys to sit down around him. They all did, looking wearily at him.

“Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry,” he started, and they all relaxed. They had become too used to being given bad news, so this was a pleasant change, whatever it was.

Harry sighed and sat down himself, looking at each Weasley in turn, before landing on Mr. Weasley.

“I need to ask all of you something,” he said simply. They all looked at each other, confused, and then nodded at Harry to continue. With another sigh, he told them,

“I would like to ask Ginny to marry me,” he said bluntly. He really wished they had hit him, as the silence that followed his request was deafening. None of them said anything as they stared at him wide-eyed, a question on their faces. He decided to take it further.

“Look, I know we’re young, but as you all probably know, I love Ginny more than life itself. I quite literally gave mine up so that she could live safely, and when I survived I knew that I had been given a second chance,” he explained. They stood silent, so he pushed forward, “I want to show her just how much she means to me by marrying her. What I’m asking now, I guess, is for your blessings,” he finished lamely, suddenly very interested in his shoelaces. Arthur was the first one to speak up.

“I think you should do it, Harry,” he said, to his sons’ astonishment. They looked at him wide-eyed and he nodded, “It’s okay, kids. I have seen how much Harry loves Ginny, and I wouldn’t dream of her finding someone more perfect for my daughter than Harry,” he explained. Charlie wasn’t completely sold yet.

“But dad!” he protested, but Arthur cut him off.

“If I recall correctly, Harry would only have to have asked me, and me alone,” he said firmly, ‘I think what he’s doing now, asking all of you, shows great maturity and responsibility. He knows just how protective you are of Ginny, and he wants to do right by her and you,” he finished, with a finality that left little room for protest. Bill left his own reverie first, and he looked at Harry, sighing.

“I love Ginny with all my heart, and I wish she didn’t have to make this decision right now,” he started, as Harry’s face fell, and continued, “but, truth is she couldn’t find a better bloke,’ he said, raising a glass in salute that Harry was sure had not been in his hand seconds before.

This statement got a round of “here, here” from the rest of the Weasleys, except Ron. He looked suspiciously at Harry and said.

“If you ever hurt Ginny in any way–,” he started, before Harry cut him off.

“Believe me, mate. If anything happened to Ginny, I’d be the one to take my life, deal?” he said with a lopsided grin. He extended his hand at Ron, who took it firmly with a smirk.

After this, all the men shared a round of firewhisky, courtesy of Charlie. They toasted to Harry and Ginny and wished him good luck before departing. As Harry sat talking to Arthur, he had a thought and slapped his forehead for being so stupid. He excused himself and ran to the fireplace, kneeling.

“Urgent Floo call to Minerva McGonagall,” he said. After a few moments, his disembodied face appeared in McGonagall’s fireplace.

“Harry, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, intrigued.

“Professor, would it be okay if I dropped in at Hogwarts? I need to talk to someone,” he said, both by way of explanation and greeting. Minerva’s face grew stern but she invited him nonetheless.

Five minutes later Harry was walking the empty corridors of Hogwarts, making his way to the fourth floor. As he got to the hall he had been looking for, he stopped in front of a portrait and coughed, waking the person up.

“Wha- Oh, Hello, Harry,” greeted Fred Weasley. He had been sleeping, and now grinned at the excited face on Harry’s face, “What you doing here, mate? Didn’t you leave like three weeks ago?” he inquired.

“I did, but I needed to ask you something, Fred,” Harry responded, growing serious. Fred nodded and Harry continued, “I want to ask Ginny to marry me,” he said simply. Fred’s face split into a huge grin and he wolf-whistled.

“Atta boy, Harry!” he exclaimed, to Harry’s surprise, “I knew you had some balls in there, what with fighting evil at every corner and all,” said Fred, causing Harry to blush.

“Yeah, I guess,’ he said lamely.

“And you’re asking for my permission?” Fred asked, to which Harry nodded, ‘but of course, you can marry my sister, Harry. You’ve always been a part of the family, and now you will make it official.” He whooped, startling some of the sleeping portraits nearby.

“Thank you, Fred, your support means a lot,” Harry said as he walked away.

“Go get her, tiger!” Fred yelled after him, as Harry rounded the corner and made his way to McGonagall’s office.

One week later, Harry was enjoying the last hours of his birthday celebration. Fortunately for him, Molly had refrained from inviting half the Wizarding World and he had had a quiet afternoon with just their family and a few close friends. Just like last year, Harry had asked for no presents. And just like last year, they had all disobeyed his wishes. He wondered if it was really worth asking.

Although the gifts had all been quite nice, there were two that he would treasure for the rest of his life. Mary had given him a beautiful painting of the Hogwarts Express making its way through green plains and a bright shining sun. She explained that she knew how much he had treasured his years at Hogwarts, and now he had something tangible to remember it. Harry thanked her repeatedly and stuffed it carefully in his room, mouthing to her that it would go in the new house.

The other gift had come from Ginny. She had spoken to Hagrid about the photo album he had given Harry at the end of his first year and had gotten an idea. When Harry ripped open the package he uncovered a small scrapbook, filled with photos of his best moments at Hogwarts. He almost cried as he flipped through the pages, where pictures of him, Hermione and Ron filled them, laughing and pointing at him from the different situations they depicted.

He noticed some of them had a small description of where Ginny had been at that time if she wasn’t in the picture. Others contained a short sentence describing how she had felt about him at the time, or how she reacted to the possibly dangerous activity they involved themselves a particular year. Harry laughed as he read about how frustrated she had been during his sixth year when she’d dated Michael and Dean. Apparently, she had noticed the longing in his eyes when he looked at her, and he blushed furiously, shutting the book closed.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” she teased as they lay in bed later that night, ‘it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mused. He knew that book had taken Ginny an enormous amount of effort, and he intended to make her birthday present one she would be unlikely to forget. While he formed the plan, he started dozing off. His dreams were filled with a blur of red and the warmth that he felt every time he looked at her. All in all, it had been a good birthday.

Eleven days later, on Ginny’s eighteenth birthday, she and Harry sat on a couch as every family member handed her their presents. She received a number of Quidditch-related gifts in preparation for her season as Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. When Mary stepped up with her present, phase one of Harry’s plan started to take motion.

Ginny took the thin parcel from the small girl’s hands and unwrapped it to reveal a small framed painting of her and Harry’s first kiss, surrounded by the entire Gryffindor house. Every detail was uncanny and Ginny felt a surge of happiness as she remembered that day. She hugged the picture to her chest and looked at Mary.

“Mary, this is just beautiful,” she exclaimed, “How did you manage it?”

“Harry helped me,” Mary said proudly, “I asked him about your first kiss, and he showed me the memory of that day. After a couple of viewings, we got it down pat,” she explained, beaming at Harry and Ginny.

Ginny hugged Mary and then turned to her boyfriend, “You’re amazing, you know that?” she exclaimed.

“I try to be,” he shrugged, “but that’s Mary’s present. I haven’t given you mine yet,” he said sheepishly.

“Where is it then?” she inquired, looking around curiously.

“You’ll have to walk with me, I hid it very well,” he said, shrugging and offering his hand to her. Ginny rolled her eyes and took it, following him outside. They walked for twenty minutes, enjoying each other’s company. When they got to their favourite spot by the pond, Harry spun around and hugged her.

“Before I give you your present, I want to say something,” he started, and she nodded, “this past year has been the best of my life, and not just because I defeated the darkest wizard of all time,” he said, which got a laugh from Ginny, “no, it has been because of you. You have made me realise time and time again that I have a future worth looking forward to. That is something that I wouldn’t have dreamed of before finding you. You have been my guiding light, even when times were darkest. You were the one thing on my mind when the Killing Curse struck me. Not Ron, not Hermione, not even the Wizarding World. You. Growing up, I never thought I’d be so lucky as to fall in love with the woman of my dreams, and having her fall in love with me, though it took me long enough,” he said. Ginny, whose eyes were starting to mist over, let out a faint chuckle at that last statement.

“I know we have talked about our future. About the house we’re building, and about our future kids. That’s the future I want for us. Before we got together I have little to live for, but the truth is...” he almost choked up, as small tears formed in both their eyes, “that, you... you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way. So, to that end,” he said, finally dropping on one knee and revealing from his pocket a ring. It had a simple design around the band, and an emerald was shimmering in the middle, flanked by two smaller rubies. “Ginevra Molly Weasley.” Ginny flinched at the sound of her full name, but couldn’t seem to complain about anything at the moment. He took a moment to look into her eyes deeply before asking,

“Will you marry me?”


	15. Chapter 15

The Weasleys were helping their mother clean up after Harry and Ginny had gone for a walk the night of her birthday. Hermione was just about to put the last plate back in the cupboard when a loud scream startled her, and the plate smashed onto the ground into a million pieces.

“Crap,” she muttered to herself, as she pulled out her wand and pointed at the broken plate, “Reparo,” she said, and then placed it on the table. The scream had come from outside and fear flashed through her. What had happened now?

The rest of the family seemed to be thinking along the same lines because in seconds everyone was outside peering into the dark, looking for signs of trouble. They were surprised, however, when they saw Ginny running at full speed in their direction, a huge smile splitting her face. They also saw Harry a few paces behind her, struggling to catch up. He looked happy too, though winded. Finally, Ginny launched herself at Hermione, who almost lost her footing.

Harry was looking at the exchange with a bemused smile. After he had proposed, they had talked for a few minutes before Ginny broke into a sprint to tell her family. He noticed the confused looks on the rest of the Weasleys as Hermione struggled to get Ginny off of her.

“What’s gotten into you, Ginny?” she said, keeping the redhead at arm’s length.

Seeing as she couldn’t seem to get out any words, she lifted her left arm and showed them her outstretched fingers. Right there, a beautiful gold ring shimmered in the light. A big emerald with two rubies adorned the otherwise simple ring. Tears started flowing from Ginny’s and Mrs. Weasley’s eyes as they wrapped each other in a bone-crushing hug. No one knew who was hanging on the tightest.

Meanwhile, the male Weasleys, Hermione, and Mary stood forward to hug Harry, congratulating him. He thought he must look ridiculous, grinning like a madman, but right now he didn’t really care. Ginny had said yes. They were getting married. Harry thought he might burst from excitement at any moment. Mary could sense that, so she approached him slowly and wrapped her small arms around him. He kneeled to be eye to eye with her.

“Congratulations, Harry,” she whispered. Harry just nodded and hugged her tighter, tears threatening to stream again from his eyes. He found his voice moments later.

“Thanks, little one,” he said simply. After their hug broke out, Mrs. Weasley trapped Harry in an embrace, which he gladly returned.

“Oh, I’m so proud for you, dear,” she told him, “My baby girl is so lucky to have found you, Harry,” she added. Harry laughed and looked at her.

“I think I’m the lucky one here, Mrs. Weasley,” he replied grinning. Mrs. Weasley shook her head and pointed a finger at him.

“No more of that Mrs. Weasley nonsense now, dear. You’ll be our son-in-law soon enough, now it’s Molly or Mum, understood?” she admonished. Harry nodded and said,

“Of course, Molly.”

“This deserves a great celebration!” exclaimed Charlie, taking out a bottle of firewhisky and slamming it on the table. As they walked inside, Bill produced a number of glasses and the two brothers set out to fill all of them, handing everyone a glass. Mary was left out, of course, so they gave her a glass of butterbeer. Once everyone was settled in, Ginny curled up on Harry’s lap, Bill raised his glass.

“To Harry and Ginny!” he exclaimed, taking a big swig. Everyone said and did likewise, and Harry felt the sting of the alcohol burning his throat as it went down. Scrunching up his nose, he shook his head and placed the glass on the coffee table.

“I think I prefer butterbeer to be honest,” he said, which ensued many laughs from the older Weasleys, and a sympathetic smile from Ginny.

Two hours later, Harry and Ginny lay in bed together, while she examined every inch of her engagement ring.

“My goodness, Harry. I just can’t get enough of this,” she exclaimed for the tenth time, “When did you even buy this?” she inquired.

“Remember the other day, when we were in Diagon Alley, and I told you I needed to check something at Gringotts while you shopped?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, the jeweller’s is just around the corner from Gringotts,” he said. She nodded again and kissed him deeply.

“Well, it’s amazing. Thank you, Harry” she said after they came up for air.

“No, Gin. Thank you,” he replied, “I wasn’t bluffing before; you really are my anchor when I can’t see where I’m going. You put up with all my shenanigans and help me through my worst nightmares. I can’t believe it took me five years to figure out I liked you,” he exclaimed, to which she laughed.

“You were quite thick at the time,” she conceded, “but I never lost hope. Were you really that jealous of Dean?” asked Ginny. He nodded and said,

“Very. I even think I was the reason you two split up,” he mused, half to himself.

Ginny frowned and propped herself up on her elbow, “what do you mean, you were the reason we broke up?” she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, that day I had taken that Felix Felicis potion to get the memory out of Slughorn, remember?” She nodded and he continued, “Turns out I accidentally bumped into you as you guys were going through the portrait hole. You thought it had been him and broke it off, I guess? Turns out that was a very lucky day for me,” he said. Ginny chuckled and kissed him again.

“Lucky me,” she whispered. As they locked the door, they shared a kiss that lasted well into the night.

The next two weeks were filled with exciting preparations for the upcoming wedding, mostly from Molly’s part. Harry and Ginny let her make them, just as long as they were informed beforehand. What they had agreed on was a date; or at least a timeframe. Ginny wanted to get married in the summer, so they were aiming for July or August of 2000.

As Harry, Ginny, and Molly sat at the table, discussing yet again the floral arrangements, they heard a knock on the door. They all looked at each other, confused. Every member of the family had gotten used to just barging in without warning, and they never expected a knock. Harry just shrugged and stood up to answer. They were even more surprised to see Minerva McGonagall standing at the door, an uncharacteristic smile softening her stern features.

“Good afternoon, Harry,” she greeted as he welcomed her inside.

“Good afternoon, Professor. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Ginny asked sweetly. She had always been fond of McGonagall, even as a student.

“Well, I wanted to drop by and offer my congratulations to you both. This was marvellous news,” she exclaimed, beaming at the young couple and opening her arms in invitation. They shared a look of disbelief as they both received a hug from their old professor.

“You two remind me so much of James and Lily, you know?” she said wistfully, “I wish you a world of happiness, Merlin knows you’ve earned it,” she said before becoming serious again, “Actually, Harry, I wanted to talk to you about the other thing,” she said raising her eyebrows.

Harry nodded quickly and beckoned her to sit down on one of the couches in the living room. She settled herself before speaking again.

“It’s all set up by now, I presume?” she asked.

“All done, Professor. I just hope it helps,” he added. Molly was looking at them with a bewildered expression.

“What’s going on here, dear?” she asked Harry. He shared a look with Ginny, who nodded at him.

“You see, Molly. When I found out about my – our – fortune, Ginny and I talked about ideas on what to do with so much money,” he explained, “one of the ideas was to open a trust fund for the children who, every year, fail to attend Hogwarts because they have no means of acquiring the materials. The Professor here tells me that every year, at least four to five potential students fail to show up at Platform 9 ¾,” he said. McGonagall then spoke up.

“So Harry here has helped open a trust fund with enough money to provide for those children who would otherwise be unable to attend our school. Last year we couldn’t set it up on time, as less than a month remained for the start of term,” she explained. Molly was awestruck and positively beaming at Harry and McGonagall.

“Oh Harry, you’re too generous, dear,” she exclaimed joyfully. “It’s a wonderful idea, of course. I daresay I love the way that money is being used,” she agreed, to which McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

“You know the amount?” she asked curiously. Harry answered for her,

“After I found out about the fortune, I gave each of the Weasleys plus Hermione a key to the vault, effectively renaming it the Burrow Family Vault.”

“I wouldn’t have expected less of you, Harry,” she told him sweetly. The young man smiled at her, as they both started discussing the finer points of the fund.

Meanwhile, Molly and Ginny were talking in the kitchen, making their way through her wedding plans.

“He is a remarkable young man, isn’t he?” Molly said as they watched him talk animatedly about the fund through the kitchen door. Ginny sighed and said,

“He’s the best, mum.”

“I cannot begin to understand how he turned out to be such a generous man, given his atrocious upbringing,” she exclaimed, disgusted at the memory of Harry’s relatives. Ginny shook her head and looked at her mother.

“Neither can I, mum. They were horrible to him, and you should have seen how he took it in stride when we visited them last year,” she exclaimed, remembering how Vernon had basically spat in Harry’s face, “they made him sleep in a cupboard under the stairs, for Merlin’s sake,” she said, her temper rising.

“I know, dear. I think maybe that’s why he’s so generous,” she mused. Ginny looked at her in disbelief, and she explained, “think about it, dear. He knows exactly what it’s like to have absolutely nothing at all. Why do you think he’s so modest all the time?” she asked.

Ginny just shrugged and said, “dunno, I guessed that’s just what he’s like.”

“Well, yes that too,” Molly conceded, “but it’s more than that. From what Ron and Hermione have told me, he always had a hard time accepting compliments. And don’t get me started on his “I didn’t kill You-Know-Who alone” nonsense,” she exclaimed.

“I guess you’re right,” said Ginny.

“Ginny, the man laid down his life for us, for you,” she added, “and he still attributes the end of the war to anyone but him. He’s a fine young man, but those scars run deeper than the one on his forehead,” she told her daughter, who sighed.

“I guess he’ll just have to learn to accept it, in time,” she said, “I’m just glad he lets himself be happy for once,” she added, looking down at her engagement ring.

“Oh, dear, I’m so happy for you,” Molly exclaimed, on the verge of tears. Ginny smiled at her mother, as she had done that so many times in the last two weeks.

Four days later, on September first, Harry and Mary were making their way down King’s Cross Station to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. When they crossed, they saw the billowing image of the scarlet steam engine. Harry smiled at the sight and followed Mary to the luggage compartment, where he heaved her trunk for her.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said. At that point he noticed the great number of eyes that were upon them while they walked, “Um, Harry, do you ever get used to it?” she said, gesturing to the onlookers. Harry chuckled before answering.

“I’ve been stared at nearly half my life, little one. I don’t even notice them by this point,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “one day, they will be staring at you for you. Mary Windsor, the brightest witch Hogwarts has seen since Hermione Granger,” he said encouragingly.

Mary looked rather apprehensive at that notion, “Oh, I don’t know Harry. I’m not that smart,” she told him, rubbing her left arm in embarrassment.

“Are you kidding, Mary? Don’t you think the other professors talked to me about how you did in your class?” he asked her, much to her chagrin, “I hear you even got top marks on History of Magic. Now that’s something to be proud of.”

Mary rolled her eyes and said, “only because you used to fall asleep in Professor Binns’s classes.”

“Well, yeah. That’s what makes it impressive, he’s very dull,” he reminded her, which made her smile.

“Well, I gotta get going,” she said, hugging him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. As she climbed onto the train, Harry called out to her.

“Remember to write to me.”

“I will, don’t worry,” she called back. Mary’s friends on her compartment looked at her with wide eyes. “What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked.

“It’s just weird how you’re on a first name basis with _the_ Harry Potter,” one of the girls, Annie, said.

Mary shrugged and smiled, “I guess. He became my legal guardian when my dad passed, and he’s very sweet,” she informed them. In an attempt to steer the conversation away from herself, she said, “so, what did you guys do this summer?”

Back on the platform, Harry made his way out onto the street. He found an abandoned alley and Apparated to the Burrow, where Ginny was expecting him with a cup of tea in her hands.

“Hey, sweetheart. Did she get on okay?” she asked him as he sat down next to her.

“Yeah, she was weirded out by the fact that everyone was staring at us,” he replied.

“You, Harry. They were staring at you,” she reminded him with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded, “so I told her that someday people would stare at her for the amazing witch that she will become,” he informed her.

Ginny, who had gotten used to Harry passing amazing actions as being ‘not a big deal’, simply smiled and kissed his cheek, “Do you want to go see the house, love?”

Harry checked his watch and nodded. Taking her hand, he led her through the garden to the border of the wards and Apparated to a place covered by trees with green, brown, and yellow leaves. As they walked the path, the dry leaves crunching under their weight, they took in their surroundings. They had been there to supervise the construction a number of times over the summer, but the house had now been finished. They would be moving their stuff and furniture tomorrow, with the help of Arthur and Charlie.

When they came to a halt at the end of the path, their jaws dropped. They had seen it before, of course, but the sense of awe still remained. This was their home. In front of them was a small two-storey house with dark red shingles. A dark brown covered the walls, which were adorned with windows looking out from every room, including two big panes that looked into the living room. When they stepped onto the front porch, a welcome mat already placed by the door, they took in the view.

Looking out over the front yard were two wooden benches, hanging from the ceiling by silver chains, gently swaying in the cool summer breeze. Two flowerpots, which were empty at the moment, flanked the door. It was a deep blue colour, an intricate design decorating its wooden surface. Below the peephole, a silver stag and a horse, much like the ones in Ginny’s necklace, stood guard. Ginny had made that suggestion, and Harry had loved it. He still did, actually.

Upon entering, they looked around in awe at the inside of their home. The door opened up into the living room, which was empty right now, save for the fireplace. The living room was the biggest space in the house, almost two times the size of the one at the Burrow. Their reasoning behind this was that they intended on having the family over as much as possible, and the extra space allowed the family itself to keep expanding.

Connected to the living room by a doorway stood the kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen was an isle, which would be surrounded by chairs and stools. A number of cabinets, both at floor level and near their heads, complemented the kitchen’s otherwise empty space. Kreacher had been allowed to inspect the plans for it, as it would be his to use as he pleased once they moved in. This had sent him into a fit of sobs, mumbling about what kind Masters he had.

The dining room was much the same size as the living room, with enough space for a relatively large table, and a great chandelier that would light up the entire room. Two big windows lined the walls to the right of the room, which looked out onto the yard outside. They had decided to leave enough space to build a Quidditch pitch in the grounds and were already planning on getting it built before they got married.

On the other side of the front door were the stairs, which led to the bedrooms. As they climbed, they pointed out spots that their pictures could have. Upstairs was a large hallway, lined with six doors, three on each side. The hallway itself seemed to be much too large to fit atop the rest of the house. _I love magic,_ Harry thought. The first two doors to the left led to two identical rooms, which would be destined for their kids in the future. They both shared a bathroom, accessible from both rooms through magic, and a window overlooking a different part of the yard below. Through the smallest of the doors was Kreacher’s small room. It was small only because he had wanted it so, of course, and Harry and Ginny had obliged.

The guest room beside Kreacher’s bedroom was a simple room, which could be expanded to become a full room should the circumstances require it. At the end of the hallway were the only two rooms with en-suite bathrooms. The one to the left was Mary’s, with enough space for a desk which Harry had arranged to fill with drawing supplies to last her a lifetime. This was actually a surprise for her, but he thought she would like it. A spacious closet filled the back wall and a simple open window looked out over the

To the right, Harry and Ginny walked into what would be their master bedroom. It came equipped with a walk-in closet, a beautifully decorated bathroom and enough space for two desks at one side of the room. In the middle, against the far wall, was the only piece of furniture in the house. A King sized bed stood majestically, with a flower-covered quilt. The bed frame was something unique as well.

Over the left side of the bed, carved into the dark wood, was a stag overlooking the rest of the room. On the right side, however, was a horse, in a similar stance. When Ginny saw this, she furrowed her brow and slapped her forehead, looking apprehensively at Harry.

“What is it? Do you not like it?” he asked her, dreading her answer. She shook her head and smiled.

“No, it’s beautiful. It’s just that...” she trailed off and turned. She closed her eyes and thought of the moment Harry had knelt on one knee and said those beautiful four words to her. “Expecto Patronum,” she whispered.

Instead of a silver horse, as was usual, a majestic doe pranced around the room, its soundless steps leaving trails of wispy silver mist on the hardwood floor. After a few seconds, it came to rest beside Ginny, looking deeply into Harry’s eyes and fading on the spot.

“I noticed it changed after we got engaged,” she explained as Harry stared at the spot where it had disappeared.

“Well, we might have to make our first remodelling,” he exclaimed, to which they both laughed as they started the first chapter of their new lives.


	16. Chapter 16

September ninth dawned with a brilliant sun and a cloudless sky. As it made its way through her curtains and onto her face, Ginny groaned and turned over. She found herself staring into a pool of bright green eyes that were staring back at her. Even though it was only seven o’clock she couldn’t help but smile at the sight that welcomed her this morning. Especially as it was a very special morning indeed.

Today was the day Ginny would have her first practice with her new team, the Holyhead Harpies. She had been nervously pacing the room the previous evening, while Harry read a book on Defence. Every now and then he would look up from his book and stare amusedly at her. She truly was beautiful when she was nervous, he thought.

They had been living in their new home for a week now, and their furnishing was nearly done. Harry had transfigured the headboard of their bed meticulously to represent a doe instead of a horse, and the result, they agreed, was not half bad. He wouldn’t be getting any awards on sculpting any time soon, but the thought was what counted, Ginny had said.

Only two paintings decorated the room at the moment. The first of these was the picture of Harry and Ginny’s first kiss, which was framed on Ginny’s nightstand. It was the first thing Ginny had moved to the house when they moved their furniture. The second was the painting Mary had done for Harry of the Hogwarts Express, which hung over their headboard. They both figured Hogwarts was like a home to them, and they deemed the spot fitting for the picture.

After a few minutes, Ginny pulled back their Gryffindor covers – her idea, not his – and headed to the bathroom for a refreshing shower. They initiated their ritual of showering and heading to the kitchen together, where Kreacher was already waiting with a grand assortment of options. Harry thought the little elf had outdone himself this time, and he made a point of mentioning it.

“Master Harry is most welcome,” Kreacher exclaimed, bowing deeply, “Kreacher thought Mistress Ginny might need the extra strength today,” he added with a grin.

Ginny nodded and set down to enjoy a hearty breakfast, “well, it looks splendid. Thank you, Kreacher,” she told him.

Ginny had really taken a liking to the small elf since their last encounter at the house of Black. Back then, he had been quite miserable, and she hadn’t spared a moment’s thought for the creature. As the past year moved forward, though, she realised that Kreacher had really changed for the better when he had harboured Harry, Ron, and Hermione during the war.

After deeming their stomachs satisfied, Harry and Ginny moved to the front door, thanking Kreacher again for his troubles. Once outside, the couple Apparated to a small cottage in the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow. The dark-haired wizard knocked firmly on the front door as they awaited an answer. Minutes had passed when the door flew open and a beaming Andromeda Tonks appeared in front of them.

“Harry, Ginny. Glad to see you today,” she exclaimed, letting them in. After the pleasantries were dealt with, Harry looked around and then at the ageing witch.

“Where is little Teddy?” he asked. His question was answered almost immediately when a turquoise blur hurled itself at Harry.

“Harree!” Teddy exclaimed. Harry smiled at the little boy. They had been practicing the pronunciation of his name, and that had been the best he could get out of the one-year-old.

“Hey there, Tedster,” said Harry, hugging his godson tightly. He surely was getting bigger, Harry thought ruefully. The small child looked around to see the redhead sitting by his godfather, and smiled.

“Gin Gin!” he exclaimed once more, before launching himself at the witch. She returned the hug in kind and smiled at Harry over the boy’s shoulders.

“Morning, little Teddy,” she greeted the small boy.

Harry stood up and nodded at Andromeda, “So, you ready to go, Tedster?” he asked the little boy. He seemed to understand as he nodded vigorously and promptly turned his hair black and his eyes to a bright green that matched his godfather’s.

“You really are your mother’s son, aren’t you?” said Ginny with a smile. Andromeda thanked the young couple for taking care of her grandchild for the day, as they exited the cottage. Harry then turned to the one-year-old in Ginny’s arms.

“Now, this won’t hurt but it might be uncomfortable, okay?” he explained, hoping he was being understood. Teddy furrowed his brow for a second before nodding apprehensively and closing his eyes. Harry took this as a yes, and took Ginny’s arm in his as they disappeared out of Godric’s Hollow.

A second later, they reappeared at the gates of a Quidditch stadium, in the outskirts of the town of Holyhead. To his credit, Teddy did not vomit, though he looked disoriented for a few seconds. Harry had offered Ginny his moral support in her first practice, and they had agreed that Teddy would very much enjoy the flying figures, even if he didn’t understand what was going on.

When the couple made their way through the tunnel that led to the changing room, they were intercepted by a middle-aged witch in training gear. She smiled when she saw Ginny with the baby in her arms.

“Hey Ginny, is that your kid?’ she asked by way of greeting. The laugh of a man a short ways behind Ginny startled her.

“Actually, he’s my godson, Teddy,” he explained. “Teddy, this is Gwenog Jones, Ginny’s captain,” he told the small child. Teddy looked at the older woman and smiled weakly, though he kept a firm grip on Ginny’s shirt. Gwenog was about to smile back when something else caught her attention. She looked back at the man who had introduced them and noticed the bright green eyes and lightening-shaped scar.

“Merlin, you’re Harry Potter,” she exclaimed with raised eyebrows. To her surprise, Ginny was the one to answer.

“Yes, yes. My fiancé’s the Boy Who Lived,” she told her captain, the smile never leaving her face, “Gwenog, Harry. Harry, Gwenog,” she introduced.

Harry held out his hand to the older witch and said, “It’s an honour to meet you, ma’am.”

“The honour is all mine, Mr. Potter,” she replied with a smile. She looked back at her player and raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know you were engaged, Ginny,” she added.

Ginny blushed and explained, “well, he proposed to me on my birthday, three weeks ago.”

Gwenog seemed to find this answer satisfactory, as she didn’t inquire further. Instead, she directed her next question to the saviour of the Wizarding World.

“Are you here to watch our practice?”

Harry nodded and took Teddy from Ginny’s arms, “yeah, I was hoping to be here for Ginny’s first day, as I don’t start my Auror training until tomorrow. And I brought my godson to cheer for her godmother,” he explained, “I hope that’s okay,” he added apologetically.

“Of course, we encourage moral support, as long as it’s not a big crowd,” she added with a grin, “you can go back that way and take a seat at the stands,’ she said pointing at a nearby hallway that led to a set of double doors, “we’ll be coming out to the pitch in ten minutes time,” she informed him, before departing the way she came in.

Ginny gave her fiancé a peck on the lips before following her captain, and the wizard walked to the stands with his godson in tow. He found a relatively secluded seat where he could still appreciate the entirety of the pitch. He played with Teddy for a while before he saw the Holyhead team enter the pitch and mount their brooms.

Ginny was easy enough to track, he knew, as her fiery red hair contrasted with the black and blond heads of her teammates. The few spectators cheered as the team made its way around the pitch, warming their flying muscles. Harry pointed his fiancé out to his small godson, as he laughed and giggled, seemingly for no apparent reason.

As the practice wore on, his enthusiasm didn’t waver. After an hour or two, the different players had split into their respective positions to practice on their own before weaving their techniques together. While his main focus was on the fiery redhead at the front of the Chaser group now relentlessly shooting Quaffles through the three hoops, his natural Seeker instincts couldn’t be controlled.

He kept glancing in the direction of the two Seekers now circling the pitch in search of the sneaky Golden Snitch. He watched with avid interest as they both seemed to understand each other’s movements and knew exactly when the other was faking a dive or not. Every now and then, he would notice a golden glint somewhere on the pitch but was disappointed to see that the Seekers would not. He figured the stands were a better vantage point and pointed at each to his godson.

What he didn’t really notice was that almost every single member of the Holyhead team had at least once glanced in his general direction, probably to confirm that their teammate’s story was true. She had said that she was engaged to Harry Potter and that he was now watching them play. “Surely that was one for the books,” they had said. The allure of The Boy Who Lived seemed to be greater than their respect for Ginny’s privacy though, and they sought the dark-haired wizard in the stands often enough.

Nearly three hours later, after a gruesome practice match between primary players and reserves alike, the team was making its way down to the changing room. Harry noticed with a proud smile how Ginny had fit in, as he saw her striking up a conversation with two fellow Chasers. He made his way down to the entrance with Teddy to greet his fiancée.

The small boy had promptly fallen asleep thirty minutes before, and he made sure to not wake him in his movements. When Ginny finally exited the changing room she refrained from launching herself at him, seeing the sleeping baby in his arms. She smiled at the sight. Harry was cooing over the currently black-haired baby, his features split into a grin.

When Harry looked up from Teddy and saw Ginny staring he moved forward.

“Hey, Gin. That was a great practice you had,” he said, though relatively quietly. Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh my god, it was amazing,” she almost burst with excitement, “I haven’t felt so alive flying for so long. My teammates seemed to find the fact that we’re engaged pretty interesting, too,” she added with a grin towards Harry. He blinked at her and frowned.

“Why? Did they not believe you or something?” he teased, smiling at her. She stuck her tongue out to him and laughed.

“No, nothing like that. They just see you as a celebrity, though,” she said, shrugging. Harry almost grimaced at the prospect but seemed to think better than to voice it.

They heard some rumbling from inside the locker room and Ginny smiled, “here they come,” she told him, taking his hand.

Seconds later, a few of Ginny’s teammates flooded through the doors, seeming to stop dead in their tracks as they spotted the couple. As Harry and Ginny spoke about the practice, three of the players shyly approached Harry. He turned to see them staring at him intently.

“Hello?” he said, confused with the looks they were giving him, “Do I have something on my face?” he asked, concerned.

Ginny snorted and stood forward, “Lucy, Tracy, Julie,” she started, gesturing to each woman, “this is my fiancé Harry,” she told them, “Harry, these are some of my teammates. Lucy and Tracy are Chasers along with me, and Julie is our reserve Seeker,” she informed him.

They seemed to snap out of their trance when Harry raised his hand and smiled at them, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you. That was some nice flying,” he said. One of the women, Tracy, spoke first.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. Harry was startled by the use of “sir”, and he shook his head.

“None of that. You’re Ginny’s teammates, so I’m Harry,” he told them, “don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he quipped. They seemed to lighten up after that, exchanging proper pleasantries before Lucy spoke up.

“Um, Harry? Would it be okay if I asked for your autograph?” she said tentatively. Harry looked at her with wide eyes, before turning to Ginny. _Clearly, she hadn’t just asked for his autograph, had she?_ Ginny seemed to find this whole exchange amusing for some reason. This did not prevent her from helping him out, though.

“I’m sorry, Lucy. Harry is not used to people asking for his autograph, much less from a professional player,” she told her, nudging her ribs gently. She seemed surprised, Harry noticed.

“Really? I’d have thought you get that all the time, given who you are,” she said, cocking her head at Harry, who shrugged.

“I’m just a regular bloke with a famous scar,” he told them, “but if you want, I guess I can’t complain to giving away an autograph,” he said grudgingly. He really didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, but he wanted to make a good impression on Ginny’s new friends.

The women looked ecstatic to be getting his autograph, which surprised him further. _You’d think I personally saved them from a burning building_ , he thought. Another request pulled him out of his element.

“Harry, could I ask for something more?” Julie said tentatively. Ginny raised her eyebrows at her but said nothing. Harry looked between the three women and his fiancée and then nodded. “Would you be willing to perform a Potter Feint for us?” she asked him.

“A Potter what?” he blurted out, causing Ginny to burst out laughing. He scowled at her and then looked at Julie with a bemused and confused face, “What is that?”

Julie stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before answering very slowly, “It’s your move, of course,” she told him, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Since when do I have a move?” he asked incredulously, directing his question mostly to Ginny, who seemed to have known about this. She rolled her eyes.

“Remember that Wronski Feint you did against Slytherin in February?” he nodded, “well, apparently there were a number of scouts that day, and they have it recorded,” she said, shrugging. Harry was not yet convinced.

“And how does that make that my move?” he asked again. Tracy now spoke up.

“The thing is, Harry, what you did was nearly impossible,” she explained. The black-haired man blinked, and she decided to elaborate, “You were going at least a hundred miles an hour when you turned, barely two feet from the ground. And in less than a second you were facing the other way, already zooming off towards the Snitch.”

“A hundred miles?” he asked incredulously, “I didn’t think I was going that fast.”

“Neither did I until I saw the repeat Gwenog showed the Seekers. What you did that day was almost physically impossible,” Ginny told him, “I hadn’t thought about it at the time, because I was used to you doing extraordinary things,” she said, to which Harry rolled his eyes.

“Wait, so you’re saying they’ve named that move the Potter Feint?” he asked the women, all of whom nodded. Tracy seemed to have eased around the man because she said,

“And that’s not the best part.” She was grinning, he saw. “No one seems to be able to replicate it. Not even the great Lynch could do it.”

“Aidan Lynch couldn’t do it?’ Now he couldn’t believe it. Lynch was a world champion. Surely he could replicate an amateur’s move.

To his surprise, all four women shook their heads and Ginny spoke up, “I actually would like to see it, love,” she told him. He rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll do it, I guess. Can I borrow your broom, Gin?” She handed him her Firebolt II and the group stepped onto the pitch. Ginny took Teddy from Harry’s arms and the wizard mounted the broom.

Kicking off, he made a few laps to warm up. He knew he could go even faster this time, seated atop the world’s best broom. By the time he had warmed up, he noticed with chagrin that a small crowd had formed below, surrounding their original party of four.

Rolling his eyes he started in a steep climb to where he was well over two hundred feet above the ground. Taking a deep breath he let gravity do the first part, falling with the momentum into a near-vertical dive towards the middle of the pitch. The wind in his face nearly blew the glasses off his face, sweeping past him with a _swish_ sound in his ears. At fifty feet over the ground, he started pulling upwards a few inches, so that when he was close to the ground he could actually turn.

As promised, when he was barely two feet off the ground, Harry pulled up sharply. He felt himself make a barrel roll; though this time he was conscious of the fact that he was picturing the movements he intended to make in his mind. He felt as if he was pushing that thought into the broom itself. In just a split second, he found himself facing the other way, although almost none of his speed had been lost in the transition.

He felt weirdly invigorated by this, and added to the loud cheers from the crowd below, he let himself drift downwards to the ground, where he was met with a blur of red hair. When he looked up over Ginny’s shoulder, he could see Teddy looking at him intently in the arms of Lucy.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry!” exclaimed Ginny as they made their way to the crowd, “you were going easily two hundred at one point,” she told him. He wasn’t really surprised, as he had had a faster broom and a longer running – or flying? – start.

“Holy cow, Harry. It was almost as if you just Apparated looking the other way,” said Julie when they approached them.

“I didn’t,” he assured them, “that could have ended badly enough for me,” he added with a chuckle. He wasn’t about to break his record of not requiring medical assistance for more than a year.

Just then, a stout wizard with a kind smile approached Harry and raised his hand. He wore a green coat over an expensive-looking black shirt tucked into his pants. Harry took the man’s hand and greeted him, “Hello, Mr...?”

“Ogglethorpe. Benedict Ogglethorpe, at your service,” said the man, “Mr. Potter, I know this may seem a bit unorthodox, but hear me out. I’m a scout for professional teams, one of them being the Holyhead Harpies,” the man explained gesturing toward the green-clad team watching the exchange. Harry nodded for him to go on.

“I was the one to record the Potter Feint this past February and let me say, it is just marvellous,” he exclaimed. “I would like to recommend you for every team I work for. I’d say you’d make a fine addition to any professional team,” he finished.

Harry hesitated for a moment and slowly shook his head. “Er, Mr. Ogglethorpe, I’m flattered. Really. But I’ve already accepted a job at the Auror Department, and I start training tomorrow,” he explained apologetically.

Mr. Ogglethorpe seemed disappointed but didn’t comment on it, “Ah, I understand, Mr. Potter. Duty calls first. Just remember, if you ever change your mind about your career choice, I’m the one you call,” he told him with a wink, presenting him with a card. Without much more, Benedict Ogglethorpe disappeared into the crowd.

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” Harry asked Ginny, who was smirking at him. Harry frowned, “What?”

“Oh, it’s just funny how you seem to excel at everything without so much as acknowledging it. I think you made quite a few fans with that spectacle of yours,” she mused, nudging him on the ribs. Harry rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around his fiancée, smiling. _Fiancée_ , he never got tired of that.


	17. Chapter 17

Ron Weasley lay on his bed inside his apartment over Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It was nearly nine o’clock on the morning of September Ninth. He groaned as a ray of sunlight hit his face and he was forced out of his comfort zone and into the day ahead. Slumping his way to the bathroom, he made himself presentable before preparing a small breakfast and finally walking down to man the counter.

He and George had opened a new store in the village of Hogsmeade in early June, and he had been tasked with managing it. Ever since the end of the war, Ron took it upon himself to help his brother get back on his feet after the loss of Fred. It was a mutual process of help, he gathered, but he knew George had been hit the hardest by his twin’s death.

As today was Saturday, Ron wasn’t surprised to see a number of students already milling about in the streets. It wasn’t long before they would start to drift into the store, and the redhead was left to his thoughts for a few moments.

He knew today was also the first day of Ginny’s training at the Holyhead Harpies, and that Harry would be accompanying her. He was proud of his little sister as he knew it had been her childhood dream to play for the Harpies. Well, that and marrying The Boy Who Lived.

Ron took a moment to think about his best friend’s relationship with his sister. At first, he had been sceptical, seeing as Harry had broken her heart once before while they were at war. But, over time, he was able to get past that and he had to admit, though grudgingly, that they made a cute couple.

Harry’s request to marry his sister had come as a shock to them all, but not to Ron. Not that that made him any less uncomfortable with it. He had two reasons for his rather uncharacteristic acceptance. First, he knew his best friend quite well, despite what Hermione said about his observational skills. He knew, then, that Harry had been through hell and back, and that he truly was grateful for his second chance at being with the woman he loved.

His second reason was much simpler: Ron could tell, even from a mile away, how deeply in love Harry was with the redheaded witch. And, in turn, how much of that love was reflected in Ginny’s eyes when they looked at each other. Ron didn’t even have to think about giving Harry the ‘older brother talk’, as he knew the black-haired wizard might just take his own punishment into his own hands if something were to happen to Ginny.

Ron smiled at the memory of him and his brothers giving Harry their blessing. He couldn’t believe his baby sister would be getting married. And to his best friend, no less. That line of thought got him thinking about his own relationship with a bushy-haired witch that was due to arrive at one for lunch at the Three Broomsticks.

He had thought about their relationship a whole lot over the summer, more so upon learning of Harry and Ginny’s engagement. Were they ready to take that step? No, definitely not. Ron knew Hermione would want to concentrate on her new career for now, and he didn’t really think he was ready for that kind of commitment.

He thought back to a week ago when the Weasleys had helped Harry and Ginny move their furniture to their new home in Ottery St. Catchpole. He had been impressed at the forward-thinking the couple had done, as the house sported five bedrooms. He knew they were thinking of the possibility of kids, and the thought scared him. He didn’t know if he was ready to see Ginny pregnant, much less being supportive about it. He had to draw some boundaries, he told himself.

He was brought back to reality when the door swung open and a fresh batch of third-years flooded through, marvelling at the twins’ inventiveness. Ron put on his best smile and proceeded to help the customers with whatever question they had, and manning the counter as well.

Ron was quite happy with the arrangement he had come to with George. He had a place to live for the moment, and his share was more than sufficient to make ends meet. Not that he was really paying any bills, but some pocket money was always welcomed. He hadn’t really made use of the Burrow Family Vault since Harry gave him the key. He wasn’t used to having access to that amount of gold, and he didn’t even know what he could use it for.

After a few gruelling hours of joke-product-selling, Ron finally set out to clean himself for his date with his girlfriend. Twenty minutes later, he emerged from the back office wearing casual attire and waited by the door for Hermione to arrive. She didn’t take long. When she stopped in front of him she smiled and pecked him on the lips.

“You look handsome,” she told him, looping her arm in his as they started making their way to the pub. Ron’s ears reddened and he shrugged.

“Look who’s talking,” he replied, making her blush in return.

They had a pleasant lunch, provided by Madame Rosmerta. They talked about their respective weeks and Ron marvelled at his girlfriend’s excitement at starting her new job.

“It’s quite gratifying, really,” she was saying, “just last evening, I finished the paperwork for authorising a couple to hire a house elf! The elf agreed to take a wage! Can you believe it?” she exclaimed.

“I guess more people are starting to realise that they are worthy of our respect,” mused Ron, genuinely glad that Hermione was enjoying herself. Suddenly, he had a thought, “hey ‘Mione?” he asked her.

She perked up at the use of her nickname and tilted her head. “Yes?”

Ron looked down at his hands and then at the brown eyes regarding him, “Have you ever thought about our future?” he inquired.

Hermione was taken aback by the question, as she had never thought of Ron as the type of person who asked himself those questions, let alone voice them aloud. “Well, I have. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged and smiled, “I just keep thinking about how much Harry and Ginny’s relationship seems to be evolving, what with their engagement and all,” he explained, “Would you like that to be us, someday?”

The bushy-haired witch considered his question for a moment before answering. She knew she wanted to be with Ron, but she also knew that Harry’s situation was very different from theirs. She sighed while she chose her words.

“Ron, I love you,” she started, taking his hands in hers, “and I want to be with you, for as long as we can. I don’t think we should compare ourselves to Harry and Ginny, though. I think what they have and what we have is very different.”

“How do you figure that?” he asked, confused.

“Well, I personally don’t believe in soul mates, but I do think Harry and Ginny are the closest you can get to that. I don’t know what it is, but they just click, you know?” Ron nodded his understanding. He also knew that his friend’s relationship with his sister was not a light thing, and the bond they seemed to share was far stronger than he had ever seen any two people have, even his parents.

“I know what you mean. The way they look at each other, you’d think they’ve been dating for ten years,” he replied, and Hermione nodded.

“Exactly, and we don’t have that. Not yet, anyway. Our relationship is amazing, and I love you more every day, but we have a ways to go before we’re comfortable enough to commit that way.” She looked at him almost apologetically, but she relaxed when her boyfriend smiled at her.

“I know, I’m glad we think the same. We’ll think about it in the future when we’re ready,” he promised. They spent the rest of the meal talking about lighter subjects, and they pleasantly surprised when they saw Neville Longbottom making his way to their table. They waved him over and he sat down, pulling a chair to sit beside his friends.

“Hey guys, how have you been doing?” he asked them, smiling as they filled him in on what had gone on since the last time they had seen each other. He raised his eyebrows when they mentioned Harry and Ginny’s engagement.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I always knew those two were meant for each other,” he said wistfully.

“So what’s going on with you, Neville? Why are you here?” Ron asked him.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you,” he said, smiling broadly, “I’ve accepted the job of Professor Sprout’s assistant. I’ve been helping her with the upkeep of the greenhouses, and the planning of lessons,” he informed them proudly.

“That’s amazing, Neville, congratulations,” exclaimed Hermione, giving her friend a hug. Ron clapped him on the shoulder with a knowing smile.

“Thanks, Hermione. Professor Sprout even said I could pick up her job after she’s retired, which shouldn’t take long, according to her,” he added, “so I might end up teaching all of your kids someday.”

Both Ron and Hermione blushed at the prospect of having children. Neville just laughed and smirked at his friends, “I guess Harry and Ginny’s children will come first, given how early they’re getting married,” he said, half to himself. Ron blushed, if possible, a deeper shade of red at the thought of his sister having kids with his best friend.

“Well, you’ll have Teddy up there first and foremost,” Hermione offered, trying to move the conversation from going too far, “and little Victoire, Bill’s daughter, is only a year younger than him.”

Neville nodded and looked at Ron, “Can you imagine the chaos the next generation of Weasleys and Potters will create at Hogwarts?” he joked. They all laughed before Hermione tilted her head at her friend.

“So how about you, Neville? Anyone you should be telling us about?” she asked knowingly. Neville blushed, as he knew she would probably already know the answer.

“Well, Hannah and I have been dating for a couple months, so there’s that,” he replied honestly. Ron looked confused.

“Hannah? Hannah Abbot, from Hufflepuff?” he asked him. Neville nodded and smiled. A pair of wizened old wizards passed by them, talking animatedly about what could only be potion ingredients. Neville shook his head and smiled.

“The very same. I really like her, and I think it’s going well for now.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Hermione picked up on it.

“What is it, Nev?”

“I... I think I love her,” he whispered. Both Ron and Hermione shared a knowing look and Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

“Then you should tell her, mate,” he told him, “Merlin knows you deserve to be happy.”

Neville nodded slowly and stood up, beaming at his friends, “Yeah, maybe I will. Thanks, you guys,” he called, making his way to the door and exiting the pub. In his excitement, he almost bumped into one of the old wizards, who shot him a glare and resumed his argument.

“I’m happy for him,” said Hermione. Ron nodded and said,

“Yeah, me too. I think we’re all growing up.”

-

Harry and Ginny walked down Godric’s Hollow to the small cottage of Andromeda Tonks, with Ginny holding a sleeping Teddy in her arms. Harry knocked firmly and stood back as an elderly woman stood in front of them.

“Hello, Ginny, Harry,” she greeted them while stepping back to let them through. When they were seated in the sitting room Ginny spoke.

“Hello, Andromeda. You have a lovely home,” she said, looking around at the cosy house. She hadn’t had the chance to visit Andromeda at her place, she realised. All across the walls, moving photographs waved or otherwise acknowledged the guests. Most of them were of Tonks or Ted, though she did spot a couple of photos of baby Teddy. It was both a sad and joyful sight.

“Thank you, dear. I hear you just had your first day for the Harpies,” the older woman replied, setting a tray with three teacups on the coffee table.

“I did. It was amazing, and Teddy here was a great supporter,” she cooed at the baby, who was now stirring in her arms. His grandmother took Teddy from Ginny and bounced him in her arms in an attempt to get him to sleep again. Miraculously, it worked.

After Andromeda set the sleeping baby in his cot, the three adults set out to small talk. They were enjoying a cup of tea and discussing Harry’s spectacular display of the Potter Feint when a small tawny owl flew through the open window and dropped a small piece of parchment on Harry’s lap. He opened it and read out loud.

_Dear Harry,_

_Sorry for taking so long, but I have been extremely busy this past year, preparing for my trip around the world in search of magical creatures. My reporter, Alicia, told me you’d be willing to give her an interview. She’s thrilled, and I thank you for being so kind, again. I know this is last minute, but would you be able to meet her at the Three Broomsticks at six o’clock today? Send a Patronus if you can, and I’ll let her know._

_Thank you again,_

_Luna._

When he was finished, he looked over at the clock on the wall. It was still five-thirty, and he nodded. Conjuring a Patronus with an affirmative answer to Luna, he stood up.

“Are you going now?” asked Ginny, standing up too.

“Yeah, I should. I promised an interview, and I intend to give it,” he said, excusing himself to Andromeda. They exchanged goodbyes and made their way through the front door.

“Okay, love. I’ll be waiting for you at home,” Ginny promised with a passionate kiss, “that’s so you won’t forget me,” she added with a small wink.

“Not possible,” he replied, kissing her again. Walking away and waving at his fiancée, he Apparated to the streets of Hogsmeade. As he walked to the Three Broomsticks, he was recognized by a number of students milling about. He waved and nodded in their direction, not particularly interested in interacting with them, before getting a booth in the pub and asking Madame Rosmerta for a butterbeer.

Thirty minutes later, a short dark-haired witch stepped through the door and looked around. Harry recognized her from last year and waved her over. She wore a bright yellow blouse, an ancient-looking necklace and navy blue jeans, on which a magicked nargle fluttered through the fabric. Harry thought her attire matched Luna’s magazine almost perfectly. She was positively beaming as she sat down and offered her hand to him.

“It’s an honour, Harry,” she was saying, smiling all the while, “Luna said you’d be willing to answer some questions?”

“The honour’s mine, Alicia,” he replied, “and yes, she told me you wanted that interview today, so here I am,” he said, folding his hands in front of him.

Alicia nodded and took out a notepad and quill, “Shall we begin?” she asked, most likely still uncertain around the Boy Who Lived.

“Fire away,” he answered. She looked down at the paper and started her interview.

“First things first, our readers really want to know about your relationship with Ginny Weasley.” She spoke quietly, probably scared that she might offend him and he would blow her off. Harry smiled and obliged.

“My relationship with Ginny is running smoothly. If you must know, we got engaged about three weeks ago,” he replied. He knew it was probably risky to share with the world that information, but he figured people would find out anyway. Might as well have it on his own terms, right?

Alicia’s eyes widened as she took notes on her pad, “Wow, and congratulations. I didn’t know you guys had been dating long,” she said curiously.

“We haven’t, really. We dated for a while before the war, and I broke it off for her protection. I realise now that was stupid, but what can you do. Then, we started dating the day the war ended.” He summarised his relationship with Ginny quite briefly, he realised. Had it really just been less than two years since they got together? The dark-haired witch nodded her understanding and took more notes.

Alicia asked more mundane questions regarding his last year and his impending future. Most were probably filler before she began with the more interesting questions. Surely enough, about five minutes into the interview, one of them came.

“A great question both me and the readers want to know is, what will the man who defeated Vol – Voldemort be doing from now on.” She’d forced herself to say the name, Harry noticed. He respected that. He nodded and thought about it before answering.

“As of tomorrow, I will be joining the Auror training program,” he announced proudly, “I wanted to make sure that, now that we have peace, it stays that way,” he explained. Alicia smiled at his nobility and scribbled away on her notepad. Harry noticed just then that the back of it was covered in wacky stickers, most of which were magicked one way or the other. One of them even winked at him, for some reason.

“Now, before the end of the term in June, you attended a hearing at the Wizengamot. Could you tell me what this was about?” she inquired. Harry knew his hearing was common knowledge, but no one had known the content of it, as it was private. Still, he knew _The Quibbler_ was a trusted source, so he once again obliged.

“Over my last year at Hogwarts, I met a small first-year witch by the name of Mary Windsor. Her mother had unfortunately been killed during the Battle of Hogwarts,” he explained sadly, “we became friends quickly. Of course, it was probably mostly because I understood what it was like to grow up without a parent.”

“Oh, how sad,’ Alicia commented, her brows knitted tightly. Harry nodded and went on.

“Unfortunately, near the end of term, her father was killed in a raid. I took it upon myself to provide comfort for her, and so I fought to become her legal guardian. That hearing was to determine whether I was capable of taking care of the little girl.”

“So did you get it?” she asked, and Harry nodded. The witch made notes on her pad and smiled at Harry, “I think that’s all I need. Thank you, Harry,” she told him, presenting her hand.

Harry shook it and smiled at the small dark-haired witch, “no problem, Alicia,” he said. After a moment’s thought, he added, “I would appreciate if you handled that last topic with delicacy. I don’t want her getting upset about her parents’ deaths.” He looked down sadly.

Alicia nodded and smiled at him, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure to only mention the fact that you became her guardian and the relationship you have,” she assured him.

“Thank you. That would be great,” he said. With a final handshake, they both departed the Three Broomsticks and headed for their respective destinations. Once at the door of his house, the door flew open without him touching it. He looked down and saw Kreacher grinning at him.

“Hey, Kreacher. How did you know I was here?”

“A house elf must always know when his master will be coming home. Kreacher sensed Master Harry coming, so Kreacher opened the door.” Harry nodded and smiled at the small creature,

“Well, thank you Kreacher,” he told him, to which Kreacher smiled and bowed deeply. Harry climbed the stairs to the master bedroom, where Ginny was waiting, reading a book in bed. “Hey, Gin,” he said.

She lifted her gaze from the book and smiled at her fiancé, “hey, Harry. How did the interview go?”

Harry sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at Ginny, “I think it went well. She seemed like a nice person, and she didn’t ask any prying questions,” he told her.

“Did she ask about us?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, and I told her I am very much taken by a beautiful witch with a respectable temper and a well known Bat-Bogey Hex,” he assured her. This seemed to appease her, as she then got up and made her way to the door.

“You coming? Kreacher is making dinner for us,” she told him. Harry shook his head and stood up as well.

“You go ahead, I wanna take a shower,” he said, removing his shirt as he entered the bathroom. Despite her lingering look over Harry’s bare back, Ginny nodded and went downstairs to wait for him. Twenty minutes later, Harry joined her at the dinner table, and Kreacher set their plates in front of them. Thanking the elf for his efforts, they dug in.

“Are you excited for your training tomorrow?” she asked him when there was a lull in the small talk.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he admitted. “But according to Kingsley, training should be fairly easy, given my natural abilities,” he added ruefully. He didn’t like the praise too much, but he knew there was no way around it.

“I figured it would. Do you even know how the first day will be?” she inquired, genuinely curious.

“Not really. The only thing I know is they measure our ability against the previous Aurors and we take some kind of test,” he shuddered at the thought of even more tests. He had thought he’d be over that when he finished school.

Ginny laughed and put a hand on his arm, “Okay, just try not to outdo every single Auror there. They might not take it well if a rookie destroyed them all on his first day,” she teased. She knew just how powerful he was, and what he was capable of when he put his mind to it.

Harry shook his head and smiled at Ginny, “Yes, dear,” he teased back. He suddenly had a thought and looked at her, “Hey, where do you think we could go for our honeymoon?” he asked.

Ginny thought about it for a second before answering, “Well, you were left a great number of houses. From what I remember, a lot of them are scattered around Europe. We could stay at a couple of them, and do some sightseeing,” she suggested.

He nodded and smiled, “you know, that’s not a bad idea. I know there was one in Germany, one in Spain and one in France, at least. That’s gotta be a great trip, I’d say,” he mused. Ginny agreed with him, and they sank back into their dessert.

Later that night, Harry and Ginny were getting ready for bed. As they lay together and curled up into each other, Ginny purred in contentment.

“I love you, Harry,” she whispered, sending shivers down his back. He never got tired of hearing it.

“I love you too, Gin,” he replied, just as softly. With that, the couple drifted to sleep, anxious for what was to come the following day. Harry wasn’t worried, though. With Ginny at his side, he could endure anything.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry woke up early the next morning even before his alarm went off. His excitement seemed to keep him from standing still as he moved from the bathroom to the closet and then downstairs for an early breakfast. Unsurprisingly, Kreacher was waiting for him with a full breakfast made. Harry made a mental note to ask Kreacher about elf magic.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” he said as he sat down and dug into his eggs and bacon. Following Ginny’s advice from earlier that week, Harry took an apple and made short work of it. He had to keep his strength through fruits and vegetables, she had said.

Twenty minutes later, his fiancée slumped her way through the door and sat down opposite him. Harry gave her a beaming smile and a kiss.

“Good morning, Gin,” he said. Ginny groaned and made a show of stretching.

“Aren’t you a little too energetic? What time is it?” she asked him incredulously. She clearly wasn’t a morning person.

“Just after seven o’clock,” he answered. He heard her groan again before she started on her breakfast too. “Sorry, I’m just too excited for today. Kingsley told me my performance today determines the level of missions and cases I will be allowed to partake in the future,” he explained.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do great,” she assured him. Harry nodded and went back to his breakfast. Twenty minutes later, he stood up and kissed Ginny deeply, walking to the front door. Once outside, he turned on the spot and Apparated to the Atrium in the Ministry. He made a beeline for the golden lifts, thankfully without many people noticing him, and entered the least crowded one.

Once the female voice said “ _Department of Magical Law Enforcement_ ,” Harry stepped out and headed for Auror Robards office. When he got to the desk area, a short, stocky Auror motioned for him to go into a conference room, where their briefing would start before the actual test. He thanked the man and entered the room.

It was relatively large, with a blackboard at the front and a number of chairs set up to look at the podium in front of it. He was relieved to notice that he wasn’t the first to arrive. There were two hopefuls sitting nervously near the front of the row of chairs. He noticed Robards was already at the front, looking through some papers as he waited for the room to fill.

When Harry took a seat next to the hopefuls, Robards looked up and offered a nod and smile for the black haired wizard. Harry nodded back and sat straighter as they waited for the rest of the new recruits to show up. Over the next thirty minutes, a total of eight more witches and wizards had trickled into the room and taken a seat. As Robards studied their faces, he nodded and started.

“Welcome, recruits, to the first day of Auror training. Today marks the first day of a long journey which will capacitate you for what’s to come with the job. Being an Auror isn’t just charging at the bad guys and firing spells,” he warned, “The research and paperwork tied to every investigation are just as important as those activities, if not more. Because of this, your training this first year will consist of two parts.”

“The first of these will be theoretical lessons with experienced researchers every week. This will consist of two-hour seminars to hone your investigative skills and compliment your practical ones. The second part will take care of the latter. You will also be pairing with an experienced Auror to get a grip of the way things work around investigations and cases,” he explained. At that moment, a shy hand went up. When he acknowledged it, a man spoke.

“Excuse me, sir, but how do you decide who we pair up with?”

“Excellent question, McKinnon,” exclaimed Robards, “That’s what today is all about. Today you will be put through a series of tests and challenges, so that we may measure your skill level. After this meeting is over, you will be subject to an obstacle course, which will change itself according to your respective skills,” he told the room. The hopefuls all looked at each other, eager to begin with their training.

“After the obstacle course, the actual Aurors will join us for the second part of our first day. This consists of a series of duels, in which you will have to best them.” A few of them frowned at the prospect of duelling with fully qualified Aurors, but Robards was faster and held up his hands. “Don’t worry. You won’t be judged if you can’t beat any of them. This is just a way to learn your way of fighting and the level of skill you possess with a wand.”

After a few more words, Robards led all eleven of them out of the conference room and down the hallway. At the end of it, he turned right into a room which had a lot of open space. At the end of this room was a dark brown door. Gesturing towards this door, Robards spoke again.

“Through there, your obstacle course begins. I have no idea what you will face in there, as it changes according to the witch or wizard. But rest assured that nothing will happen to you. Just trust your instincts and you’ll do fine,” he assured them. He proceeded to call out names, as the people started going through the door.

Each hopeful took around fifteen minutes to complete the course and Harry noticed most of them sported small scars on their faces and hands. One particular woman came out five minutes into the test, her eyes closed and her breathing heavy. An older wizard kneeled beside her and helped her to her feet. Harry saw how pale she was, and gulped when the next name was called.

“Potter, Harry,” called Robards. At the mention of his name, a number of murmurs rose from the other ten recruits. Harry was used to this, of course, so he moved forward and through the door.

At first, he couldn’t see a thing. He lifted his wand and thought _Lumos_. The wandlight showed him what appeared to be a small lake. He had a sudden flashback to the last time he had been to a lake in a cave that looked quite similar to this. He willed his wand to light up brighter, and he saw with a jolt that there was a figure in the middle of the lake. On a small island, a bundle was resting just shy of the shore. He could make out a faint whimper coming from the figure, and he realised it was a baby.

Casting a quick Impervious Charm on himself, he jumped into the lake. The water was freezing cold. He figured he wouldn’t need his wand, for now, so he put it between his teeth, following the wandlight towards the island. After a few moments, he came to regret his decision. A slimy hand took hold of his ankle and he looked down through the murky water. A grindylow was sneering at him, trying to pull him down with it. As he watched, more of the creatures appeared and took hold of his legs.

Groaning, he reached for his wand and pointed it at the grindylows. Thinking _Expulso_ with all his might, the small creatures were thrust away from him and into the depths of the lake. He wondered just how deep this lake went as he started swimming again in the direction of the island. His muscles were sore as he approached it, his thoughts drifting to his fiancée at home to avoid thinking of the cold.

When he reached the island, he took hold of the bundle and peered over the blankets. It was indeed a crying baby. Around him, the atmosphere had seemed to change. An eerie glow filled what he assumed were the edges of the lake, casting odd shadows on the cavernous walls. Dark monsters seemed to make their way around the walls of the cave, their visages merely a reflection on the undisturbed waters. Looking around, he looked for a way out. Another door stood on the other side of the lake, a few feet from the opposite shore.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his wand once more and conjured a small boat onto the bank. It took a few seconds, but sure enough, a boat materialised on the water. He set the bundle of blankets on the floor of it and sat down himself. With another wave of his wand, the boat was jerked into action. It wasn’t a smooth ride, as more grindylows took to jumping out of the water and lashing at Harry from every direction.

He deflected all of them quite easily, most of the time using a Protego Charm to repel them. One got the better of his reflexes and landed on his head, managing to slash his cheek with a sharp stick before Harry sent it flying. _Grindylows using weapons?_ he thought with a frown. Once he was safely docked on the other side of the lake, he took the bundle and stepped through the door that had materialised itself there. Upon entering the second room, he noticed the bundle was no longer in his arms. Looking around, he saw that he was in a rectangular room. It had nothing inside.

On second thought, it did have something in it. In one corner of the room, Harry saw another limp figure lying on the floor. He directed his wandlight toward it and stared in horror at the scene in front of him. Ginny lay motionless on the ground, a huge gash spreading across her abdomen. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and blood was pooling around her rapidly. The blood had quite literally drained from her face, once a beautiful sight filled with life. A small trickle of blood oozed from her nose. Harry almost had the urge to vomit.

He tried to clear his head and think it through. How could this happen? This couldn’t be Ginny, he thought. He knew she was safe and sound in Holyhead, enjoying her second day with the Harpies. Then, who was this? Around him, the room seemed to get smaller as if by magic, closing in on him. The rattle of what sounded like chains drowned out his thoughts and he forced himself to look at the horrific sight.

After a moment’s thought, he slapped his forehead. Of course, a boggart. He sighed in relief as he realised that this wasn’t, in fact, his dead fiancée, but his worst fear. Pointing his wand at the limp figure of Ginny, he thought _Riddikulus._

The fake Ginny shuddered for a moment before the blood around her turned to water. Her wounds were healed, and she looked to be laughing after having been soaked in water. At the sound of her laughter, another identical door appeared on the other side of the room. Nodding, Harry went through the door to face his next obstacle. The icy chill that spread through his body almost made him snort. Dementors? Really?

He lifted his lit wand and confirmed his theory. Gliding towards him in what looked like a small clearing were ten hooded figures. Their rattled breath sent chills down his spine and he readied himself for them. Thinking of the feeling of elation he had felt when Ginny accepted to marry him, he thought _Expecto Patronum_. At that moment, a silvery stag erupted from his wand and began chasing down the Dementors. After they had disappeared behind a silvery veil on one side of the room, a new door materialised in the middle of nowhere.

The room he found himself in next startled him. It was an exact replica of Petunia Dursley’s kitchen. With the sun shining through a window, he could see the spotless countertop and the shining silverware. He frowned at being thrust in here again before he saw a small note on the kitchen table. Raising an eyebrow, he took it and read the note:

_Use the electric kettle to heat water for tea._

This time Harry laughed out loud. Was this really one of the obstacles? Did they not know that he had been raised and basically enslaved by muggles for sixteen years? Rolling his eyes, he set out to the task. He wondered how the electric kettle even worked with this much magic around it. When he was done, he poured the hot water into the mug and took a sip. As he did, the room around him disappeared in a wisp of smoke, and the same dark brown door he had come through at the start appeared on one side.

When he stepped through, he saw the other recruits looking at him expectantly. Robards was studying him with an amused smile. “Do I have something on my face?” Harry asked.

“No, Harry,” Robards assured him, “It’s just that you were in there for almost an hour,” he explained.

Harry’s eyes widened. It hadn’t felt like that long when he was in there. To him, it had been just over ten minutes. He received a nod from Robards and went back to his spot, as the rest of the recruits were called. After less than an hour, the Head of the department led them back to the conference room from before.

“Well, I hope you gave our examiners a good show in there. They’ve monitored your progress through the course closely, and will be informing me about it at the end of the day,” he explained, “now, you have an hour to get some food into your systems before you report back here for the second part of the day. Dismissed,’ he announced.

They all made their way out of the room, most of them discussing what they had had to go through in their respective courses. Harry was silent as he walked to the cafeteria and asked for some kidney pie. He listened to his fellow recruits as they described the ways in which they were tested. Most were pretty straightforward, Harry thought. Why, then, had he taken more than twice the time they took to complete his own course? Had he had more obstacles than the rest?

He didn’t have much time to ponder this possibility as the hour passed much too quickly and the group had to make their way to the conference room. Once in there, Robards greeted them again.

“Welcome back. We will now head to the training arena that we have set up for you to face the rest of the Aurors,” he explained, “it will work similarly to the obstacle course, in which you will deal against us one by one until you are Disarmed or otherwise incapacitated.”

They all nodded their understanding and followed Robards out of the room. He led them to a huge room that was connected to the conference room through a big double door. Harry noticed that twelve Aurors were lined up against the opposite wall. To his surprise, Minister Shacklebolt was also there, smiling broadly at Harry. Robards seemed to be just as surprised, however.

“Minister, I didn’t know we would be expecting you today,” he exclaimed, shaking Kingsley’s hand.

“I know it wasn’t planned, but as I was previously an Auror I would like to take part in the second task,” he explained. Robards nodded and clapped the black man on the shoulder.

“Been a while, eh?” He smiled knowingly. Kingsley nodded slowly.

“Way too long.”

Robards then clapped his hands and motioned for the recruits to stand off to the side, as he started calling out names. This time, the group could see their fellow recruits’ progress through the Aurors. Most of them couldn’t get past the fifth or sixth one, although one tough witch got to Robards before being Disarmed by the Head of the department. Harry noticed that this time, Robards had waited until last to call his name. _This can’t be good_ , he thought.

“Potter, Harry.” Again, some murmurs ensued from the group of Aurors on the other side, which he chose to ignore. Harry stepped onto the raised platform and lifted his wand, bowing to the first contender.

The first duel was over just as quickly as it had begun, as Harry used a Full Body-Bind on the man, effectively incapacitating him. He worked his way through the Aurors, never uttering a single word. This certainly put the Aurors off, as they themselves hadn’t all mastered non-verbal magic. Not to Harry’s level, at least. The other recruits watched in awe as Harry dispatched of the Aurors with ease, casting Shields almost at the same time that he ducked and shot a stunning spell at his opponent.

At one point, Harry was faced with two Aurors at the same time. One was a short woman with short black hair and the other was a tall lanky man with beetle black eyes and a shaven head. Harry embraced the challenge and cast a silent shield in the direction of the man while firing a Disarming spell at the woman a second later. Her wand flew immediately in Harry’s direction and he caught it. Thinking quickly, he cast a shield with the woman’s wand, while firing a stunning spell at the man with his own.

Soon enough, Harry found himself facing Kingsley Shacklebolt. The older man was grinning at him, wand at the ready, “don’t go easy on me just ‘cause I’m the Minister, Harry,” he warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” teased Harry. Kingsley’s booming laugh almost drowned out the first of the spells that flew between the two wizards. Harry noticed right away that Kingsley was much more experienced than the other Aurors. For one, he wasn’t leaving him space to weave around him. Harry knew that he would need a new strategy for dealing with the Minister.

As he deflected another stunning spell from the older man, Harry had a crazy idea. Faking a stunning spell of his own, he turned on the spot and disappeared. He reappeared a millisecond later behind Kingsley. Unfortunately, Kingsley had been expecting it, as he turned around and deflected his Disarming Spell.

After conjuring another shield, he began a sort of dance around the Minister. He would fire a spell or two and deflect one from Kingsley, before Apparating to another side of the room and begin the process all over again. He thought he might be making his opponent dizzy, but Kingsley was fast. At one point, Kingsley’s Disarming spell found its way through one of Harry’s shields and his phoenix wand flew through the air, landing at the Minister’s feet.

The recruits were about to start clapping when something unexpected happened. Harry had raised his wandless hand and closed his eyes. A second later, Kingsley’s own wand flew from his hand and landed on Harry’s outstretched one. The older man stared wide-eyed at the young wizard holding his wand in front of him.

“How did you-,” he stammered. Harry shrugged and handed him back his wand, before retrieving his own from the floor. The others were staring at them in stunned silence.

“I guess you should always be prepared for the eventuality of your wand leaving your hand,’ Harry explained.

“Well, I get your point,” conceded Kingsley, “but what you did now exceeds anything I’ve ever seen. Most wandless magic consists only of small levitation spells and some healing ones. Disarming someone wandlessly requires an enormous amount of work and power.”

Harry blushed and looked down. He hadn’t really thought about it that way. He had just done it, as he knew that Kingsley would have let his guard down when Harry’s wand touched the floor. He was spared having to explain it further when Robards started clapping. Soon enough, Aurors and recruits alike had joined in the applause.

“Very impressive, Harry,” exclaimed Robards as he approached a blushing Harry, “I’d say, that was some extraordinary use of Apparition in combat,” he added as he shook the young man’s hand, “I’ve never seen anything like it, either.”

When they made their way back to the conference room once more, Robards addressed them.

“You have all done very well today. We will evaluate your results and performances over the day of tomorrow, and I expect to see you all back here on Tuesday,” he exclaimed. They all sighed in relief as they exited the room. They would have a full day to recover from what had been a very extenuating day.

“Relax, you did great,” he heard Robards tell him as they walked. Harry just gave him a small smile and a nod. Once out of the lift, he walked to the Apparition point in the Atrium and Disapparated to his home.

Again, the front door flew open before Harry had a chance to grab the doorknob. He smiled and thanked the small elf and made his way to the living room. As Ginny wasn’t scheduled to return for another hour, he grabbed a book from the bookcase and sat down on his favourite chair to wait for her.

Now that he had a house of his own, he knew wouldn’t have to repress his own desires. As a young kid, he had always loved reading. Of course, Uncle Vernon wouldn’t hear of it and never allowed Harry to even touch a book in his small library. He was quite a bright boy as a child, but his fear of being punished for being smart “trying to make Dudley look stupid” had driven him into the habit of underperforming in school.

Unfortunately, this bad habit had continued even when at Hogwarts. He wasn’t as smart as Hermione, that was for sure, but he realised that he could have easily done better if he had used his full potential. He noticed with interest how this seemed to parallel the dampening of his magical abilities by the presence of Voldemort’s soul in his. He wondered how much better at school he could have been, had he not had these huge weights dragging him down.

Now, his desires were unhindered and he could spoil himself with any amount of books he wanted. He was even thinking of expanding the house for the first time to accommodate a respectable library. The number of books he had been purchasing over the summer from Flourish and Blotts had started to accumulate and it was getting hard to find places to put them in.

At the moment he was reading a book on Arithmancy. Another of his hidden passions had been maths, and he had recently discovered through Hermione that Arithmancy was the wizarding equivalent of it. When he had found this particular tome, he had cursed himself for not taking that elective in the third year, rather than Divination. That would have spared him a number of rather dramatic predictions of his own gruesome death.

After reading through four chapters of the book, he tore his gaze from the pages to find Ginny smiling at him from the doorway, “Hey there, Gin. How was your day?” he asked her. She made her way to the chair beside him and kissed his forehead.

“It was great. I was exhausted near the end,” she informed him, “What about you? How was your first day?” she inquired. Harry nodded and proceeded to tell her everything about his day.

He tried to leave out the part about seeing her dead, but Ginny raised an eyebrow as he swiftly drifted past the form his boggart had taken.

“What form did the boggart take now?” she asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, I wouldn’t think Dementors are your biggest fear now, given that you can produce the best Patronus anyone’s ever seen,” she reasoned, “So, what was it?”

He sighed and looked down, “I saw you dead,” he said quietly, “You were lying on the floor, blood gushing from your abdomen. I almost ran for it then,” he admitted. His body shook when a shiver coursed through his spine, his mouth going suddenly dry.

“Well, don’t worry. I’m right here,” she assured him, embracing her fiancé in a fierce hug.

“I know,” he said, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into his future wife’s arms. “I love you,” he told her.

“I love you, too,” she replied.

He then went on to explain about the duels they had had with the Aurors and his final confrontation with the Minister. When he mentioned his Disarming of Kingsley, she was beaming, “Merlin’s beard, Harry! That’s some powerful magic you did,” she said. Harry nodded and said,

“Yeah, that’s what Kingsley said. I hadn’t even thought about it, I just did it,” he shrugged. How he could pass this amazing feat as an everyday occurrence, Ginny couldn’t tell. “Well, it was a long day, and I’m not really hungry. I think I’ll be heading to bed.” He stood up, yawning. With a goodnight kiss from Ginny, he retired to their room.

Ginny watched him go with a smile on her face. She knew Harry would do just fine by himself at the Auror Department. She just hoped that these new-found abilities would protect him, as he was once more willingly putting himself in harm’s way. She shook her head and started eating the dinner Kreacher set for her. _Some things would never change_ , she thought ruefully. She had fallen in love with the noblest man in the world, and she was strangely okay with it.


	19. Chapter 19

Harry felt relaxed and well-rested when he woke up the next morning. Apparently, Ginny had let him sleep in, and for that he was grateful. Yesterday had been exhausting, albeit rewarding. He knew he had done quite well for his first day in Auror training, and having a day off was just what he needed to unwind.

Sitting up on his bed, he reached for his glasses. When he had them on, he wondered if they should start adding more decorations to their room. Apart from the two paintings and the Order of Merlin medals that were displayed on the right wall, there was not much else. A couple of books were piled in one corner, as his last bookcase had been filled two days ago. He really needed to get a move on with the library, he told himself ruefully.

After a few minutes of stretching the grogginess off, Harry stepped into the shower and prepared for the day ahead. As it was 10 o’clock, he thought he could still enjoy a great portion of the day. When he climbed the stairs down into the kitchen, Kreacher welcomed him with breakfast. After thanking the elf, he thought for a moment.

“Kreacher, would you like to join me?” he asked the small elf. Kreacher’s eyes went wide, and a huge grin split his face.

“Master would like for Kreacher to join him at the breakfast table?” he croaked, a sense of awe in his voice that Harry couldn’t help but notice.

“Yes, I would like that very much,” he told him. Kreacher took a few more moments before nodding and sitting down on the chair opposite Harry. His small face barely reached the tabletop as he helped himself to some bacon.

“Master is much too kind,” he said gleefully as he stuffed himself with bacon and eggs.

Harry chuckled and nodded, turning to his own breakfast. He had a light one since he would be eating lunch at the Cauldron today. He figured that since he had a full day off, he could enjoy a leisure stroll up Diagon Alley. He could also check out some stores, like Flourish and Blotts. Even if he didn’t have a library to store them in yet, he still wanted to check out the latest releases.

Once he was ready, he walked to the edge of his wards and Apparated to a narrow side alley that led to Gringotts. Figuring he might as well get some money while he was at it, he stepped into the pristine white building. Upon arriving at the counter, the teller took one look at him and smiled.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. Do you wish to see your account manager?” he asked. Harry was taken aback by the sudden friendliness but thought he shouldn’t be surprised. Not only was he the biggest single account in Gringotts, but he was used to treating the Goblins as equals, something that most wizards didn’t take into account. He figured that respect was well received among the creatures.

“Yes, please,” he replied with a smile. The goblin nodded once and gestured for him to go through the hallway. He had been through this many times over the last summer and this, and he made his way towards Kandak’s office. When he knocked, he heard a mumbled, “come in.”

He opened the door and shook hands with his account manager, who shifted his demeanour to one of amicability the moment he set eyes on the raven-haired wizard.

“Mr. Potter, so good to see you,” said Kandak, “What can I do for you today?”

“It’s good to see you too, Kandak,” he replied, “I’d like to see my account statements and make a withdrawal, please,” he informed the goblin. Kandak nodded and disappeared behind his own desk before re-emerging with a big scroll of parchment and a rather large empty pouch.

Harry knew the parchment to be his statement, and so he took a quick look at it. Once he was finished, he frowned and looked at the goblin sitting across from him.

“Um, Kandak? I think there has been a mistake,” he told the creature. Kandak’s frown deepened if that was even possible for a goblin.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?”

“Not really, but I noticed something odd,” he said, pointing at the bottom of the parchment, where his total sum of savings stood. Indeed, the number had now increased to well over a billion galleons, as opposed to the 850 million that he had seen last year.

“Do you feel that some money is missing?” the goblin asked, concern leaking into his voice.

“Well, no. Just the opposite, really,” Harry said, confused, “how come I have even more money than I did last year, even though me and my family have been using the money from that vault?”

At his question, Kandak visibly relaxed and let out a throaty chuckle. “You see, Mr. Potter. The Goblins take our clients’ gold very seriously. One thing that we pride ourselves with is our well-placed investments,” he explained, “Granted, we only invest with the gold of vaults that could do with less gold, should one of these fall through.’

Harry frowned at hearing this new information, but raised another question, “And how many times have you had an investment fall through?”

Kandak smirked visibly as he said proudly, “not one, yet.”

The wizard let out a whistle and looked back at the parchment still in his hands. Somehow, he had failed to notice that, since starting that conversation, his savings had increased by two thousand galleons. _They sure are efficient_ , Harry thought ruefully.

“Well, I’d like to withdraw a thousand galleons,” he informed the manager. Kandak nodded and waved his hand over the empty pouch, which immediately started filling up as if by magic. Harry knew he didn’t really need a thousand galleons for the day, but he might as well get some pocket money for the rest of the week... or month.

Thanking the account manager for his time, Harry stepped out of the bank and onto the street outside. There were only a handful of people walking the streets, but most smiled and waved in his direction. Fighting an urge to roll his eyes, he returned the gestures.

His first stop was Flourish and Blotts, where he browsed the aisles with avid interest. When he stepped up to the counter with four books under his arm, the teller smiled at him, “Good morning, Mr. Potter,” she greeted sweetly. She was a middle-aged woman, with long auburn hair that was tinged with a few grey hairs.

“Good morning, Kendra,” he replied. He had taken to remember the names of all the shopkeepers since he started shopping here more regularly, “I’d like these delivered to my house, please. I’ll be out the rest of the day, and I don’t want to go around carrying them.”

Kendra nodded and took the books for inspection, “Very well, Mr. Potter. That will be thirteen galleons and ten sickles,” she told him.

When Harry placed the money on the counter he smiled at her, “you know, you might as well call me Harry. Looks like I will be coming very often as I expand my collection.”

“And a marvellous collection it will be, Harry,” she exclaimed, “You know, I sometimes get shipments of collections of books that I acquire from families who need the money or just want to get rid of the extra space,” she informed him.

“That’s very interesting indeed,” said Harry wistfully, “Could you inform me of the next collection you acquire? I might take an interest in some books, and I could certainly pay well,” he added.

“I’d be glad to,” she said happily. Talking to someone with as much of an interest for books as she had was probably an amazing experience for her, Harry thought.

After sharing with her the details of where to owl the lists of books, he left the store and started walking down the Alley. He stopped at the Owl Emporium for a quick word with the teller. After that, he made his way to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

He was looking at the display, where a rather good-looking new Cleansweep model was being shown when a tap on the shoulder drew his attention. When he saw who it was, he drew his wand instantly. Before him stood Draco Malfoy while his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, stood a few paces back. Draco raised his hands in surrender.

“Whoa, Potter. Calm down, will you?” he said defensively. Harry squinted at him but put his wand down and gave the blonde man a searching look.

“Fancy seeing you here, Malfoy,” he said calmly, “I’d have thought Lucius and his bunch wouldn’t be very welcome here now.”

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, good thing we’re not with him anymore,” he said.

“Why not?” asked Harry, genuinely intrigued. Draco had loved his father growing up, and the contempt in his voice when he said those words had confused the dark-haired man. To his surprise, Draco sighed and looked down.

“We were tired of following his crazy ambitions. He nearly threw our family into a bottomless pit during the war,” he explained, “I had had enough of following him around dutifully. When I told him, he tried to force us out of the Manor,” he added with a grin.

“Tried to?” inquired Harry, half-amused, half-confused.

“Yeah, he didn’t take it well when I told him I would hand him over to the Aurors.” He shrugged. “He left the following morning, and we haven’t seen him since.”

“Well, congratulations,” said Harry, clapping Draco on the shoulder. _What are you doing?_ the rational part of his brain kept telling him, _this is Draco Malfoy you’re talking to_. The sensible part, the part that had told him marrying Ginny was a good idea, had a different perspective, however. “I’m glad you saw the light in the end,” he added.

“I should have done it ages ago,” Draco said shamefully, “I guess I couldn’t see my father for the flawed man that he was,” he admitted with a grimace.

Harry nodded in understanding. He knew that his father hadn’t been perfect, but he couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Draco to see his own father’s defects.

“Look, don’t think this makes us friends, Potter,” Draco said, “but, would you accept a truce? Our childish squabbles have gone long enough, I guess,” he added lamely, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Harry considered this for a moment before nodding and holding out his hand, “Truce.”

“Truce,” Draco agreed.

The black-haired man then turned to the older woman standing a few paces behind her son. She looked startled to be addressed but recovered with a small not-so-sincere smile.

“I wanted to thank you, Narcissa,” Harry told her.

“Why’s that?”

“For lying to Voldemort.” He saw both Malfoys flinch at the name of their previous master. “You saved me that night, and ensured we won the war,” he acknowledged. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but he realised now that he would have died if it weren’t for Narcissa Malfoy. The woman blinked but nodded solemnly. “So, what are you doing now?” he asked Draco.

Draco scratched the back of his head again before answering, “Um, I’m studying to become a Healer,” he admitted, “I didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, so I took extracurricular lessons so I could take the necessary NEWTs, and I’ll be starting in a few days at St. Mungo’s.”

“That’s pretty impressive,” Harry conceded. Checking his watch, he turned back to the blond man, “well, it was good seeing you. Really,” he added when he saw the sceptical expression on Draco’s face. “I do have to go now,” he said, shaking Draco’s hand before walking towards the Leaky Cauldron.

After a hefty lunch, Harry walked into the back alley of Gringotts and Apparated to his home. He decided to take it easy the rest of the day, and so he opened a book on Charms from one of his piles and set himself on the loveseat in his living room. He lost track of time as his eyelids dropped and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Ginny walked into the living room after an exhausting third day with the Harpies. When she laid eyes on her fiancé she smiled. He was slumped on the loveseat by the fireplace, his glasses askew and a book hanging loosely from his right hand. She leaned on the doorframe and watched Harry sleep peacefully. She knew the nightmares from the war had not completely left him, so this was a pleasant change.

She decided to leave him to it and take a shower. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom to find a smiling Harry on their bed. She smiled back and pecked him on the lips,

“Hey, love,” she greeted.

“How was your day?” he asked, leaning on his elbow and he lay on the bed. She told him in detail about the drills they were put through that day. When she was done, Harry remembered something.

“Hey, guess who I ran into today,” he said. She shook her head and gestured him to tell her, “Draco Malfoy.”

To her credit, Ginny didn’t just lash out at the mention of a Malfoy, but she did growl menacingly. To her surprise, Harry chuckled/

“Don’t worry, he’s not with his father anymore.” Ginny rolled her eyes, and Harry explained, “he was with his mother, and he told me that they had had it with Lucius ruining their family. He left them some time ago.”

“And you believed him?” asked Ginny incredulously.

“He didn’t have any reason to lie.” He shrugged. “Plus, his Occlumency skills are quite poor. Apparently, he’s studying to become a Healer.”

Ginny wasn’t completely convinced, but she let it go. _As long as they hadn’t given him any trouble_ , she thought. “So what do you think tomorrow’s training will be like?” she inquired.

“I’ve no idea,” he admitted, “Robards said they would evaluate how we did yesterday, and give us our assignments according to that, so...”

“You’ll do amazing, love,” she assured him.

“Thanks, Red,” he teased. Ginny smiled and replied.

“You’re welcome, Green.”

The following morning, Harry was seated in the same conference room along with the other ten hopefuls. Robards was regarding them with a serious expression. At exactly 8 o’clock, he started.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a relaxing day yesterday.” There was a murmur of agreement, and he continued, “our examiners and I have analysed your performance, and we have paired every one of you with one of our own Aurors. They will be your partners in your assignments during the next two years,” he explained.

He took out a piece of parchments from his coat and cleared his throat, “so, the pairs are as follows...’ He started naming Aurors and their trainee partners. In the end, Harry had been paired with Auror Smith. As everyone found their partners, Harry noticed a small petite woman waving at him from the other side of the room. Over a grey skirt, she wore a simple white shirt. She looked to be just over twenty years old.

When Harry got to her he shook her hand and nodded with a smile. She had short shoulder-length brown hair, with hazel eyes and a slim face. She was pretty, Harry decided. He smiled at the thought of what Ginny would say if he voiced such a thought. He shrugged mentally though. After all, Harry only had eyes for Ginny Weasley.

“Hey, I’m Abigail Smith,” she introduced herself, “My friends call me Abby though,” she added with a smile.

“Harry, Harry Potter.” He knew he didn’t need to introduce himself, but that didn’t stop him from having manners.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry.”

“Okay, listen up everyone,” Robards boomed, “Your task for today is basically to get to know your partners. That goes for the Aurors as well. The first thing we need when fighting the dark arts is good team chemistry. Aurors, I expect you to make our trainees comfortable with our atmosphere,” with that, they were all dismissed. Abby gestured for Harry to follow her and they walked into her cubicle.

“So,” she said when they were sitting, “I heard from Robards that your results were some of the best he’s seen in two decades, and you were the first trainee ever to beat Kingsley”

He stared at her and smiled awkwardly. When no witty remark was forthcoming, Abigail raised an eyebrow.

“So, tell me about yourself. I’d love to get to know the great Harry Potter,” she quipped.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What could he say? He was fairly well known, and his childhood story had been printed in every single Dark Arts book in the last 17 years. “Um, well,” he started lamely, “I’m 18 years old, only child. Though I’ve been sort of adopted into the Weasley family.”

“Ah, I heard about that. Good people,” she said. Harry nodded; they really were, “I heard you’re also engaged to their daughter?” she asked with a smirk.

Harry smiled and nodded again, “That’s true. Her name’s Ginny. We’re getting married next summer,” he informed her.

“That’s great, congratulations,” she told him, “Although I do expect an invitation,” she teased him with a sweet smile.

The black haired wizard chuckled and nodded. They sat like that for at least another hour, getting to know each other. If they were to be spending so much time in the next two years, they might as well see if they liked each other.

Harry learned that Abby had two brothers, but that one of them, Michael, had died during the war, “I’m sorry,” said Harry, hanging his head.

“There’s no need to be sorry, it’s not your fault,” she assured him with a sad smile, “We’re all muggleborns, you see,” she explained, “it was only a matter of time before one of us was found.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, so he gave her a small smile. After a couple more minutes, Abby suggested they get something to eat, to which Harry agreed. When they were satisfied, the Auror set out to show Harry around the nooks and crannies of the office. Harry saw a number of other pairs engaging in similar activities. By the end of the day, he felt surer of himself in making his way through the corridors of the Department.

At 6 o’clock in the evening, Harry stepped through the door of his home, thanking Kreacher for opening it in the process. He found Ginny in the kitchen table waiting for him with two plates of pasta. She smiled at him and greeted him.

“Hey, love. How was your first real day?”

Harry kissed her and promptly sat down opposite her, “Just fine,’ he proceeded to tell her about the pairing and the rest of his activities. He had been sceptical about mentioning his female partner to Ginny. Sure enough, when he mentioned Abby, Ginny’s eyebrow rose.

“So, this Abby,” she inquired with a smirk, “is she pretty?”

Harry, of course, had been expecting this and grinned, “I guess she is.” He shrugged. “But she doesn’t even hold a candle to you, love,” he assured her.

‘Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. Even so, she smiled and motioned for him to continue. “That sounds like an interesting day. You’ll be working cases right off the bat?”

“I think so. Although we will also have those research seminars every week,” explained Harry. Ginny nodded and they went back to their dinner while talking about lighter subjects.

Harry excused himself as he made his way to the living room. There, he picked a piece of parchment and a quill and began writing a letter to Mary. When he was done, twenty minutes later, he gave the letter to the barn owl that he had purchased when he visited the Alley, and watched it soar out the window towards Hogwarts.

Later that night, Harry lay in bed with Ginny curled up into his side. She was breathing evenly and Harry could barely make out the rhythm of her heartbeat. When he was certain she was completely asleep, he let himself drift off, but when he finally did, a nightmare took hold of him.

This wasn’t the regular nightmare, though. Usually, he would dream of the war, of the bodies, of Voldemort. He would dream that he hadn’t survived the Killing Curse and that Voldemort had laid waste to Hogwarts. Nowadays, it only took Ginny’s soothing voice to calm him down.

This time, however, he saw something else. He was standing alone in a big circular room. A number of doors lined the black walls. _The Department of Mysteries_ , he thought. He looked around and saw that he was alone. Shrugging, he opened one of the doors.

To his horror, the room beyond was bare, except for a lone figure sprawled on the floor. He saw Ginny, his Ginny, lying dead on the floor. Much like his boggart, a great gash split Ginny’s abdomen as blood pooled below her. Thinking he might be sick, he closed the door and stepped into the original circular room.

He noticed that the familiar pressure of his wand in his pocket was gone, and he cursed. _Of course I wouldn’t have my wand,_ he thought. Taking a chance, he opened another door and saw a similar room. Inside, however, was Ron. Or Ron’s body, more like it. A wound in his chest was gushing blood everywhere and his eyes were glassy. Harry almost screamed as he walked back into the circular room.

Reluctantly, he opened more doors. Each and every one of them contained one of his loved ones, dead at the hands of a mysterious force. Hermione, George, Molly, Mary... The latter’s small body appeared to have shrunk in death, her beautiful blonde hair matted with dried blood and her eyes staring right at him, ever unseeing.

Thinking he had had enough, he shouted.

“Let me out! Please, let me out!” His voice felt and sounded hoarse, and he wondered if he had been screaming in his sleep. To his surprise, one of the doors he hadn’t opened flew open and showed the corridor that led to the golden lift. Sighing in relief, Harry stepped through the door and started walking wearily to the lift.

Barely halfway to it, a head-splitting pain shot through his forehead. The same kind of pain that hadn’t haunted him for over a year. A feeling of dread coursed through his body. Crying out in pain, his knees gave way and he collapsed onto the floor. As he tried to maintain some composure, a chilling voice spoke, its tone sounding bored.

“ _There’s no way out of this, Potter. You cannot escape the pain. Everyone you have loved; everyone you care about. All of them will perish. All because of you, Potter,”_ the voice drawled. _It wasn’t Voldemort’s_ , Harry thought with both relief and terror. This voice was much raspier and deeper, although just as cold. He couldn’t quite place it, but a nagging feeling on the back of his head told him he knew its owner.

“ _Surrender, Potter,_ ” the voice continued, “ _everyone will survive. You just have to surrender..._ ” Suddenly, Harry’s field of vision was filled with a bright green light. Then, everything went black.

He shot up in a cold sweat. He was breathing hard, his heart doing its best to try and escape his body. Yet, Harry knew he hadn’t screamed this time, fortunately. Pale, slender fingers of moonlight crept onto the bed through the open window. A soft breeze was blowing through it as well, an eerie chill taking hold of him.

Ginny lay sleeping at his side, completely oblivious to what had happened. He tried to recall every detail he could of the dream, or nightmare, but it seemed to be fading rapidly from his memory. His eyes closed, he reached forward, almost as if he were trying to grasp at the clues that might solve this mystery. After a few futile attempts, the only thing Harry could remember was a deep, rumbling voice saying one word, over and over again.

“ _Surrender._ ”


	20. Chapter 20

While Harry and Ginny started their lives as responsible adults, Mary Windsor began to adjust herself to the swing of school once more. After having one of the best summers of her life, considering the circumstances, she was not exactly looking forward to being a whole year without living with her guardians.

Mary marvelled at how important Harry and Ginny had become to her in the past year. She thought about her guardian and his selflessness. He had lost just as much as her, if not more, and he still found it in himself to aid a small girl in need. Mary, of course, was ever grateful.

As the student body piled into the Great Hall for the Starting Feast, Mary found her way to the Ravenclaw table with her friends. She saw McGonagall gesture to Professor Sprout, and the stout witch herded a group of small first years to the base of the dais. She placed the worn-down Sorting Hat on a three-legged stool and the hat broke into song.

Last year’s song had essentially congratulated Hogwarts and its students in fending off the forces of evil in the final Battle. During the summer, Harry had informed her that the hat spent the entirety of the school year composing a new song for the Starting Feast. This year, the Sorting Hat reminded them profusely of the importance of uniting as a whole and not let House boundaries create enmities among them. Mary thought that this was mostly for the Slytherins, but didn’t comment on it.

She was absently making small talk with her friends when the Headmistress stood behind the podium at the front. She waited barely a minute before chatter broke down.

“Welcome, students, to a new school year,” she began, “I trust you had a pleasant summer. A few announcements before you make your way to your dormitories. First, Professor O’Brian has accepted to take on the full job of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. As I have taken on the responsibility of Headmistress, Professor O’Brian will become the new Head of Gryffindor.” She waited until the clapping subsided, “As for new appointments, I am happy to announce that we have found a suitable Transfiguration teacher, as I will no longer be a teacher from now on. Please welcome Professor Mallory,” the entire Hall applauded a tall slim witch that sat between Professors Sprout and Babbling, waving and smiling at the students. McGonagall nodded and raised her hands once more.

“I also remind the first years that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to students without a teacher accompanying them. Older students might do well to remember that, as well,” she added with a stern gaze towards the senior end of the Gryffindor table, “Well, I’ve taken enough of your time. Off to bed,” she dismissed them.

Mary walked to the Ravenclaw tower with her dorm-mates and all five of them made their way to the second year girls’ dormitory. Once inside, they all changed into their pyjamas and sat down on their four-poster beds. A tall brunette named Jenny spoke up first.

“It will be weird having DADA without Professor Potter this year, won’t it?” Her roommates nodded in agreement.

“I know. He was the best, and he could always spare time for questions, no matter how silly they were,” Juliet, a short, rather chubby girl replied.

“Plus, he is very cute,” Annie, Mary’s best friend confessed. The other girls just giggled and kept talking about their summers. At one point, Jenny looked over at Mary, who was drawing absently on a sketchbook Harry had gotten her for her birthday.

“What about you, Mary. You haven’t spoken since the Feast,” she said. Mary looked up from the drawing and shrugged.

“What would you like me to say, Jen?” she asked.

“Well, we’ve been talking about Harry Potter for the better part of half an hour and you, his legal ward, haven’t said a word about it,” Annie pointed out. This made Mary sigh.

“So what do you want to know, exactly?” she inquired. She loved her friends to bits, but sometimes they could be so tactless.

“Is it true that he’s richer than Merlin himself?” Jenny asked with a smile. _So tactless_ , Mary thought. Harry, of course, had shown her the Burrow Family Vault over the summer. Her knees had almost given way below her at the sight of that much gold and silver. He had promised that that would always be available to her when she needed it. Then, he had handed her a golden key, which she kept safe in a small jewellery box in her trunk.

She didn’t want to betray Harry’s trust, as he had said many times that he was almost ashamed to own that much money. She also knew that her friends were not dumb. They were in Ravenclaw, after all. She opted for some masked truths.

“I don’t know about that, but he is well off, I think.” She shrugged. “Why do you even ask?”

“It just seemed weird that they let him be your guardian after having known you for a year. That may have swayed the court,” Jenny said with a shrug of her own.

“Okay,” said Mary sceptically, before closing the curtains on her four-poster and bidding her roommates goodnight.

Over the next two weeks, Mary got into the swing of classes quite easily. She had always been a good student, and her grades last year had proven that. What could she say? She loved to study. _Okay, that sounded nerdy_ , she thought, but she didn’t care. He knew that Harry’s best friend, Hermione, had been a sort of know-it-all when they were in school, and she had gotten to know her over the previous year and over the summer. She was quite a great friend, and a good confidant, Mary realised.

Hermione, Ginny, and Mary had formed a close bond over the previous year. Unlike with Harry, this bond was a sisterly one, and Mary realised that she could come to them with any questions that she had felt uncomfortable talking about with Harry. That didn’t mean that he didn’t talk to Harry, though. In fact, they had promised to write to each other at least twice a month with updates of their lives. Mary had noticed too late that she didn’t actually have an owl of her own, and she would need to wait for Harry to write to her.

As Mary made short work of her dinner on the second Tuesday in September, a barn owl soared into the Great Hall and made its way to her. She almost shrieked when it landed soundlessly beside her plate and began taking small sips of her pumpkin juice. It had a piece of parchment attached to its leg.

“Hey there, boy,” Mary said as she stroked the owl’s feathers. She took the parchment and the owl nipped her finger affectionately. “What do you have there?”

As she opened the letter and began reading she grinned to herself. It was from Harry.

“ _Dear Mary,_

_Hey little one, how was your first full week back to Hogwarts. Miss me already? I have to say, I was getting used to you being around here and now I only have Ginny to keep me company. Okay, I know that’s still amazing, but I still miss you. We all do. How’s second year treating you? I hear from Minerva that your summer homework was amazing, so congratulations on that._

_Ginny had her first practice on Saturday, and I took Teddy to see her. You should have seen it! She killed it. Soon enough I will be known for being Ginny Potter’s husband, and not just Harry Potter. Ginny Potter, that sounds amazing. I can’t wait for the wedding. Okay, I’m rambling. So hear this: apparently they have named a move after me! I kid you not; some of Ginny’s teammates asked me to perform something called the ‘Potter Feint’ for them. They explained that they named that dive I performed against Slytherin after me, just because no-one’s been able to replicate it. Dumb, right?_

_So I accepted – grudgingly, mind you – and performed the damned thing. When I landed, Ginny said I had been going over 200 miles an hour. Neat, huh? Turns out there was a scout among the crowd watching me do it, because not two minutes later this guy – some Ogglethorpe bloke – tells me I would be a great addition to a professional team, and that he wanted to offer me a job. Can you believe it? I hadn’t even started on Auror training, and I was getting a job offer. I said no, obviously._

_The following day I had my first day. It was interesting, to say the least. We had to pass this obstacle course, which apparently was fitted to the specific witch or wizard who entered the room. The first part was easy enough, I guess. I had to rescue a baby from the middle of a creepy lake that was infested with grindylows. No, it wasn’t actually a real baby. After that, it was a boggart, which you will probably learn about next year. Basically, it shows you your greatest fear. Creepy stuff. The other two tasks were way too easy in my opinion. They had me repel ten dementors, which is kind of dumb since I had quite a lot of practice from my third year. Remember my stories of the year my godfather escaped from Azkaban to kill the animagus Peter Pettigrew, who was disguising himself as Ron’s rat? Good times. After that, they had me heat up some water in an electric kettle for tea. Can you believe it? Don’t they know I lived with muggles my whole life?_

_Okay, enough about that. After that, the fun started. They had us duel with the Aurors, which proved to be quite hard for most people. For me, it was quite invigorating. I could finally put my non-verbal-casting skills to the test, and it worked out pretty well. I even ended up beating every Auror and Disarming the Minister wandlessly! You know I don’t normally brag, but I was pretty proud of myself, so give me a break._

_So, today was fun I guess. They reviewed our results and partnered me up with a woman named Abigail Smith. Lucky for me, Ginny didn’t have a reason to be jealous, as I only have eyes for her. Abby – she insisted that I don’t call her Abigail – showed me the ins and outs of the office and we got to know each other. She even asked me about Ginny and our engagement. Not much else happened, really._

_I almost forgot; we forgot to get you an owl so you could write home while at school. So, voila! This is your owl. He doesn’t have a name, so you can name him yourself. Let me know what you name it on your letter. I hope you’re well, little one. Tell me all about your time there!_

_Love,_

_Harry._ ”

Mary sighed when she finished the letter. So much had happened in less than three days, she thought. She noticed how he conveniently forgot to mention anything about the new house. _No matter_ , she thought. She would see it over the Christmas break. She turned to the barn owl and stroked his head.

“What should I name you, little guy?” She noticed that he was a bit smaller than regular owls. Harry must have probably done it to mock her, Mary thought. She remembered a character from a book she read a couple of years ago that was very small for his age. His name was Armand. She looked up at the owl and smiled, “How does Armand sound, boy?”

She got a hoot and an affectionate nibble of her finger, so she figured that was a yes. Armand climbed onto her shoulder and together they made their way to Ravenclaw tower. Once she’d answered the riddle and she was inside the common room, Mary took out some parchment and started writing her letter on one of the many desks that lined the walls.

“ _Dear Harry,_

 _Wow, so much has happened. I’m sure Ginny was amazing. She’s an excellent flier. I can’t wait for your wedding either. You both deserve to be happy! I would have loved to see your face when they asked you about the ‘Potter Feint’, though! That would have been great for a drawing... I actually_ can _believe that you’d get a job offer as a flier. You’re just as good a flier as Ginny, if not better._

_That first day sounds exhausting. That boggart thing sounds scary, though. I don’t even know what my biggest fear is, but I wouldn’t want to face it in a test. I can see why it would appear in an obstacle course too. I do remember the story of your third year. Don’t they know that you fought off like a hundred dementors? Ten of them should be a joke for you! I feel like they use the kettle part of the course to determine whether you could blend in in a muggle house? I’m not really sure, though. That’s my theory._

_I think it’s a good thing that you can be proud of that, Harry! Ginny always said that you are too noble and modest for your own good. Plus, Disarming the Minister without your wand? That’s amazing! I read that wandless magic usually only consists of small healing spells, though. If you’re not careful, they’ll be comparing you to Merlin soon enough, haha!_

_This Abby girl sounds fun, I guess? It’s good that you only have eyes for Ginny, though. You two make the cutest couple._

_As for me, school has been a bit boring, if I’m being honest. Don’t get me wrong; I love my friends, and the lessons are quite fascinating. But not having you or Ginny or Hermione around is weird. I got so used to you guys that I forgot I wouldn’t be seeing you as much this year. We don’t have much homework yet, but that may be because I always do it the moment they give it to us... I’ve been going down to Hagrid’s hut every so often. You were right, he’s the sweetest! I usually go there when I need to clear my head, and I have started sketching his dog, Fang. He even said he would pay for a drawing of both of them! Can you believe it? I told him I’d do it for free, of course, but he insisted..._

_Not much else has happened so far, but I do miss you already. Can’t wait for Christmas break so I can see the new house! Okay, I have to go now; I haven’t started on next week’s DADA essay! Hope you’re well. Send my best to Ginny and the Weasleys._

_Love,_

_Little one._ ”

As weeks passed by, Mary kept correspondence with both Harry and Ginny. They were both having a blast at their jobs, and she could tell. Harry was thoroughly enjoying the field work he was getting put through with his partner Abby, and he had even hinted that Mary might be seeing him sooner than she thought. She wondered what he meant by that. He also complained to her that the research seminars were starting to get as tedious as school. She had just laughed at him. “School’s not tedious,” she had told him.

Surprisingly, he had also told her about his nightmare. His reasoning was that he didn’t want to have secrets with her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had any insights as to what the dream might mean. She was just as stumped by it as Ginny and Harry were. They weren’t too worried about it, though. Apparently, Harry had so many nightmares in his life that he didn’t think this one meant much. Or so he hoped.

Ginny was also enjoying her time with the Harpies. Around mid-October, she had had her first official game. Mary had been in stitches when Harry told her about his fiancée’s first goal. Apparently, the Keeper for the Appleby Arrows had said a rather rude comment about Ginny’s bum. So, Ginny being Ginny, she had shot the Quaffle directly into the Keeper’s stomach, who in turn went through the left goalpost; Quaffle and all. She had been quite proud that that had been her first official professional goal.

As for Mary, she had finished the drawing of Fang, which now hung over the fireplace at Hagrid’s hut. He had said that since Fang was getting on in years, he was happy to have something to remember him by when he was gone. She was, of course, doing excellently on all her classes, and the professors made a point of mentioning it often enough. They often compared her to Hermione, which made her blush to the roots of her blonde hair. She still wondered what Harry had meant by that letter, though.

Surprisingly, the answer to that question came on the last Saturday of October, one day before Halloween. While walking down the corridor to the Great Hall for lunch, she had spotted a nest of jet black hair and bright green eyes looking directly at her from beside the staff table. She gasped and ran at him at full speed. When she got there, he was already waiting for her, arms open.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, launching herself at him.

“Hey, little one. Staying out of trouble?” he said, smiling warmly down at her.

“Always,’ she told him sheepishly. “What are you doing here?”

He feigned shock and grasped his heart, “Didn’t you miss me? I could just go, you know?”

Mary rolled her eyes and slapping his shoulder playfully, “Of course I missed you, silly. You know what I meant.”

“Robards seems to think that I have much to share with the younger generation. Something about me experiencing more than ten Aurors combined in my seven years here or something. So he has tasked me with giving a sort of speech and question and answer here at Hogwarts,” he explained.

“About Defence?” she asked. Harry nodded and she said, “Will second years be able to attend?” she inquired hopefully. He nodded again.

“Yeah, this will be for first through fifth years,” he told her, “I’ll be doing another one for the sixth and seventh years next term, though.”

“That’s so cool,’ she exclaimed, “Prepare yourself for very personal questions, though,” she warned. At that, Harry paled.

“You don’t think people will ask about my personal life, do you?”

“A lot of students have never met you, Harry, and most of those that have still talk about you a lot. And so, they want to know the man behind the legend,” she teased. Harry groaned loudly and rolled his eyes.

“I am most certainly not a legend,” he said exasperatedly.

“Oh, but you are,” she reminded him, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. After some small talk, Harry informed her that she would see her after the speech, which would start after lunch.

After dessert had been served, the first-through-fifth year students of all houses sat at the Great Hall, looking up at a nervous Harry. He was sitting on a stool he had conjured and cleared his throat.

“Good afternoon, students,” he started. _Great start, Potter_ , he thought. “I am here today to talk to you all about Defence Against the Dark Arts. I understand Professor O’Brian has been doing a great job of it so far, but the Minister seems to think that I might have some interesting insights to share with you, considering my life,” he said with a small smile. He thought it worked when he heard faint chuckles from his audience.

“Many of you can probably guess that DADA is one of the most important subjects here at Hogwarts,” he continued, “it is there that you learn to defend yourselves, not only against dark witches and wizards but against any threat that might befall you. You are aware that more than a year ago, the final battle led to the final downfall of Lord Voldemort.” He noticed with pride that not many students even flinched at the name. “The end of the war marked a pivotal point in all of our lives and brought a time of relative peace. You should be aware, though, that the end of one dark wizard does not mean the end of them all,” he reminded them.

“Now, I’m not asking you to become paranoid and not trust people. My point is that you should strive to do well in DADA. Not because of a grade, or because the professor wants to teach you a certain spell. But because you will, at one point or another, need that defence in your life. I do hope that none of you have to experience what we did in the war, even though I know a number of you even belonged to Dumbledore’s Army,” he added with a grin. He saw many faces perk up at the mention of the DA.

After that, he began the part of the speech that he had practiced so many times in the last two weeks. He had been very nervous to do this, but he noticed just how easy it was to talk to a group of students. He thought not for the first time if becoming a Professor at one point was not such a bad idea. Twenty minutes later, he started with the questions. He gestured for a blonde third year who had lifted her hand to speak.

“Um, what spell or jinx would you recommend for, say, a battle?” she asked timidly. He was relieved that they hadn’t started with personal questions right off the bat.

“Well, there’s the stunning spell. My fiancée’s quite fond of the Bat-Bogey Hex,” he added with a grin. He saw many students staring at him in confusion, “Don’t ask. But the most useful would be Expelliarmus,” he said. He frowned when he heard a snort from the fifth year section of the Hufflepuffs.

“Come on, a Disarming spell? How’s that going to help against a dark wizard?” he asked incredulously. To his surprise, Harry smiled at him.

“I set a lot of store by that particular spell. It is, after all, the spell I used to defeat Voldemort in our final battle, as well as at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament in my fourth year,” he reminded him. The look of shock on the fifth year was mirrored in many faces around the Hall. Of course, none of them had been at the final battle, so they wouldn’t have known that.

He kept answering smaller calibre questions for about fifteen minutes before one of them took him by surprise.

“Do you regret having been the Chosen One?” a second-year Ravenclaw asked. He knew she must have been a friend of Mary’s but couldn’t quite place the name. He thought hard about his answer and took a deep breath.

“Honestly, sometimes I do,” he admitted, “being the Chosen One took my parents, my godfather and more friends than I’d like to count. But I also know something else. I wouldn’t change it for the world. After having defeated him, I realise that I love the way my life has turned out. Sure, there were many shifts and turns, but that’s a part of life,” he told them. He closed his eyes, the weight on his shoulders seemingly deepening, “I can also sleep better knowing that my being the Chosen One has prevented many more from suffering the same childhood I had...” he finished. He hadn’t even realised his eyes were glistening, clouding his already atrocious vision.

After his statement, there was an eerie silence draped over the Great Hall. To the surprise of all present, including Harry, Mary stood from the second year group and made her way to her guardian. Without hesitation, he wrapped her arms around his waist and embraced him in a fierce hug that would have made Molly Weasley proud.

Harry accepted the embrace and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, little one.”

“No problem, Harry. What are friends for, right?” she replied, kissing his cheek. When she realised what she had done in front of half the school, she blushed and took her seat again. Composing himself again, Harry continued with the questions for another fifteen minutes.

All in all, it had been a pretty good day, Harry thought as he lay on his bed next to Ginny that night. When he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he could only groan. He was at the Department of Mysteries again. This would be a restless night...


	21. Chapter 21

“Leave me alone!” bellowed Harry.

He had been having the Department of Mysteries nightmare every night since his speech at Hogwarts. It had already been three weeks, and Harry was getting tired and frustrated. Not only because he was sleeping horribly, but because he was not even close to figuring out if this nightmare meant anything.

Tonight it had been a little different though. He was still in the circular room with the many black doors, but this time there was someone else with him. More than one person, actually. As he looked around, black-cloaked figures appeared in front of the doors. When Harry approached them, they blocked his way in. Looking around, he noticed that one of the doors was not blocked by a figure.

He let out a breath and prepared for the worst. He opened the door slowly and walked forward. Upon entering, he saw someone crying in the corner of a small box-shaped room. Her blonde hair was matted with dirt and what looked like dried blood. Her quiet sobs ripped his heart, and Harry realised this was Mary. Sighing, he stepped forward and knelt beside her.

“Little one? Are you alright?” he asked, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He saw her tense under his touch, and she flinched at the sound of his voice. Sniffing loudly, she nodded solemnly.

“Hey, little one. Look at me,” he pleaded. He didn’t know why he was so scared but she must have felt his concern, for she slowly turned around.

The sight in front of him shocked and almost made him take a step back. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were tearstained as if she had been crying for hours. _She probably had,_ he figured. There was a small cut over her eyebrow, which was dripping blood slowly over the left side of her face. She was wearing a pretty yellow sundress that was ripped and torn at several spots. Her knees were scraped, bleeding slightly. The worst part, though, was her abdomen.

Starting just over the left side of her hip, a sizable gash ripped through the skin, climbing its way up to just under her right shoulder. Blood was still oozing from it, and her face was paling by the second. He felt his voice hitch as he spoke.

“Mary! What happened?” He was desperate at this point. He knew deep down that this was a dream, but he was still afraid. When she replied, it was little over a whisper.

“You said you would protect me, Harry,” she whimpered. “I thought you loved me,” she croaked, letting a fresh batch of tears roll from her eyes once more. Harry held her close to him, wrapping her in a tight embrace. The blood was soaking his shirt and tears were streaming from his eyes too. He couldn’t seem to stop them.

He felt her shudder for a moment and held her at arm’s length. Her eyes became glossed over, and it was like she was looking through him instead of at him. He frowned for a second before she spoke. But this time, her voice was not the sweet whisper that she usually had. This voice was much too deep for a twelve-year-old and had a certain drawl to it

“ _This, Potter is what happens when you play the hero. Those you love, an innocent little child, dead because you chose to stand and fight. There’s no escape, Potter!_ ” the voice spat. It still sounded eerily familiar, but he couldn’t place it in his fear. “ _You know what you must do! Surrender, Potter. Surrender!_ ”

After that ominous statement, Mary’s body went limp. Harry watched in horror as her eyes became glassy and she stared lifelessly into space. Harry stared at his ward in shock, before collapsing to the floor. He was getting tired of this nightmare, but this time it had hit much too close to home. He screamed at the top of his lungs before his vision was engulfed by the now-familiar green flash of light.

As was usual, he bolted awake on his bed. Ginny was propped up on her elbow, looking at him with eyes full of concern. Running his hands through his messy hair, he sighed. He had started to scream again for the last week, and he knew he was waking his fiancée up. As she had been sensing his thought, she shook her head.

“This is not your fault, Harry,” she told him. “I know you’re feeling guilty for keeping me up, but you have to remember something.”

“And what might that be?”

“I will always be by your side,” she reminded him, showing him the beautiful ring she wore. “I agreed to spend my life with you, in good times and in bad. I love you, and your problems are our problems,” she said, kissing him softly.

“Sometimes I wonder just how I got so lucky with you,” he said, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. He sighed and told her about this new variation of his nightmare. “Do you think she’s in danger?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” she said. “I just think your subconscious is really protective of her, and therefore knows how much it would hurt you to lose her. She has become such a big part of you this past year,” she explained.

Harry nodded and smirked, “Getting jealous?” he teased.

Ginny laughed and kissed him again, “Not at all. I love the relationship you have with her. It’s good for both of you since you can relate to her situation far better than any of us.”

“I guess you’re right. I don’t know what it is, I just get this primal instinct to protect her, and I don’t know what would happen if she got hurt because of me,” he explained, looking down at his hands.

“Harry, you’re the most powerful wizard I have ever met,” she told him, “but even you can’t protect everyone all the time.”

“I know, I know,” he conceded, “it just frustrates me, you know?”

“Don’t worry about it, love,” she told him, planting small kisses along his face and neck. Groaning, he kissed her lips.

“I won’t, now,” he said with a small grin.

The next day, thankfully a Sunday, Harry and Ginny had some free time to themselves. After a pleasant breakfast courtesy of Kreacher, the couple decided to visit Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow. Once on the porch, Harry opened the door and let Ginny through.

“Such a gentleman,” she teased with a smirk. She spotted her mother by the hearth, knitting away at what appeared to be a jumper. “Hey, mum!”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I didn’t know you’d be joining me today.” She gave each a hug and gestured for them to sit on the couch.

“Neither did we,” Harry said. “We figured it had been some time since we had lunch together, what with Ginny’s and my training.”

“Much too long,” Mrs. Weasley said. She waved her wand and three teacups and a teapot hovered over to the coffee table. “How’s work been lately, Harry? Ginny’s already told me about her training, but what about you, dear?”

“Work’s been great, Molly,” he replied, nodding. “Not as glamorous as I thought it would be, but that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

Molly took a sip of tea and smiled widely at her future son-in-law. “That’s amazing, dear,” she said. “You don’t miss teaching at Hogwarts, though? I always did think you’d make a perfect teacher.”

“That’s what I told him,” Ginny exclaimed. “You should have seen how much the kids loved him by the end of the term.”

“They didn’t _love_ me,” Harry defended himself, rolling his eyes. Ginny raised her eyebrow.

“Mary talks to me too, honey,” she said. “Her friends still talk about you to this day. You left a great impression on those kids.”

Harry pursed his lips and looked down, his head swimming. On the one hand, he knew his fiancée was right. On the other, he could not seem to let go of the idea that his recent nightmares were more than just nightmares. Something terrible was brewing, he knew, yet he could not put his finger on it.

He saw Ginny’s fingers snapping in front of him and he blinked, coming out of his trance. “You okay, Harry?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, frowning. “It’s just that I think, at least for now, that being an Auror is where I belong, you know?”

Molly huffed and pursed her lips. She set down the cup and approached the man, placing a gentle hand on his unruly hair. He raised his eyes to hers and saw a strange mix of compassion and pity in them, something he’d never thought possible coming from Molly Weasley.

“Poor boy, ever the hero,” she said sadly. “I really hope one day you learn to let yourself be happy and let others take care of these things.”

The man sighed and looked down at his hands, embarrassed. He really did wish he had any other answer than, “I just can’t do that, Molly.” He shook his head. “If I see a situation going south, I just can’t. Sometimes I wish I could.”

“I know you do, dear,” his surrogate mother said, not unkindly. Fortunately for him, lunch was a rather subdued affair which only harboured small talk. While Molly and Ginny discussed more plans for the ever-approaching wedding, Harry silently picked at his Brussel sprouts, mulling Molly’s words over. Maybe he did deserve to step down and let others take care of things. _But then again, when had he been able to make reasonable decisions?_

Three weeks later, Harry sat at Abby’s cubicle, going over a missing-persons report. Over the past three months, the two of them had been pretty active in all sorts of cases. Their synergy, along with Harry’s raw magical and investigative power, came in very handy. Robards was constantly praising the pair on their efficiency.

They hadn’t necessarily caught any Death Eaters, unfortunately, but that was to be expected, Harry thought. They wouldn’t want to expose themselves so soon after their master had died. He just hoped that that would remain so for longer, though he wasn’t optimistic.

Now, Abby was briefing him on the case of one Alfonso Cuaron. He was a half-blood wizard who went into the muggle world to become a filmmaker. According to the local police, a patrol had been watching his house late at night, when a bright red light from inside caught their attention. Upon inspection, the police were baffled to find that there was no sign of forced entry or struggle of any kind. He just disappeared.

After gathering up last-minute details, Harry and Abby made their way to the Apparition point. They travelled to a secluded part of the muggle village where Mr. Cuaron was abducted. When they walked toward the correct house, they noticed a couple of policemen standing guard in front of some yellow police tape.

“Hello! We’re here on behalf of Scotland Yard. We’d like permission to sweep the perimeter,” greeted Harry. Abby quickly waved her wand under her coat, and the policemen’s eyes went glassy and unfocused for a moment.

“Of course, right this way,” the taller one said, lifting the police tape. The pair of them nodded and headed into the house. Once inside, Abby rolled her eyes at Harry.

“Scotland Yard? Really?” she asked.

Harry shrugged, “I figured it’d be a good excuse for why we’re traipsing into their crime scene,” he explained.

“Right. You take the ground floor, and I’ll go upstairs. Let me know if you find something unusual,” she commanded, before heading up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms.

Harry started in the kitchen, which was fairly small. There was a glass of milk on the counter, but other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary. He then stepped into the living room, where he saw a typical muggle living space. A small TV was sitting in a corner in front of a green couch. A library lined one of the walls, and Harry saw a couple of DVDs sprinkled in there as well. This man must have been good with Charms if he could get all this electronic stuff to work around a wizard.

They searched the house for hours, doing any number of detection spells. After four o’clock, they were ready to give up on finding any clues. It was then that he noticed the piece of parchment hanging loosely from behind a family photo on the far side of the wall. Harry wondered how the police had missed this but figured it had been charmed so only wizards could see it.

He warily grabbed the parchment and unrolled it. Before reading, he called for Abby. When she was standing behind him, reading over his shoulder, he read aloud.

“ _This is for our master, Potter. You will meet your maker one day, but for now, enjoy the show._ ”

“What is that supposed to- ?” started Abby before drifting off and staring in shock over Harry’s shoulder. Where the library once stood, a chair had appeared. On the chair was a man with blood-stained clothes and a big gash to his throat. While Harry fought the urge to vomit, Abby wasn’t so lucky. She bent over and got sick in a trash bin nearby.

“That’s... that’s Alfonso, right?” said Harry. He noticed more cuts and bruises over his body and face, and he saw a small note on Alfonso’s lap. Reluctantly, he approached him and took the piece of paper. He groaned out loud when he read it.

“ _This is the first of many._ ”

“Well, at least we know it was Death Eaters,” piped Abby after she had composed herself. “Come on, let’s go to the office and report this.”

Harry could only nod as they made their way back to the Ministry. They did all the necessary paperwork for the case and informed Robards of the threat they saw on Cuaron’s house. Harry was feeling quite gloomy over the fact that this had been done to get to him. He was running his hands through his hair for the tenth time when Robards grabbed his arm and he looked up.

“Potter, don’t beat yourself up over this. These things happen,” he assured the black haired wizard.

“I know they do, but this time it happened because of a feud between those damn Death Eaters and me,” he retorted. “Maybe I should just hand myself in or something,” he said quietly. He sounded defeated; something Robards was not expecting.

“Look, if you think that will stop them from doing this kind of shit, you’re not the man I hired,” he told Harry. “You’re an incredible wizard, and a great person, Harry. The only way to stop this is if you put that great mind of yours on this case and solve it like the man that Kingsley told me about,” he told him, slapping his shoulder.

Harry managed a small grin and looked up at his boss, “You know, my fiancée said something very similar to me a couple of weeks ago,” he said.

“She sounds like a fine young woman,” said Robards, which earned a laugh from Harry.

“The best,” replied Harry.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. We will get these bastards and then maybe we can have some damn peace for once,” assured Robards. Harry could only nod as he made his way through the office and into the Atrium. Once in the Apparition point, he went back home and was greeted by Kreacher opening the door.

He was surprised, however, when he stepped into the living room and saw another house elf standing by the fire, smiling up at Harry.

“Winky?” he exclaimed. The small elf gave a small bow and smiled at the wizard.

“Winky is here for Harry Potter, sir. Winky would like to work for Harry Potter, sir,” she said in her squeaky voice. Harry frowned and sat down on the couch.

“Why do you want to work for me, though? I thought you were at Hogwarts,” he inquired.

“I was. But it is not being the same without Dobby, sir,” she explained. Harry felt a pang of sadness at the thought of the free elf.

“So you’d like to work here with Kreacher?” asked Harry.

“Of course, sir. Kreacher is telling Hogwarts elves all about your greatness and kindness, sir.”

Harry looked questionably at Kreacher, who just shrugged, “Kreacher is only saying the truth, Master Harry.”

The wizard considered this for a moment before beckoning the elves to sit down with him. Winky almost burst into tears when she was asked to sit by a wizard, but Kreacher was used to it by now. He had been joining Harry and Ginny for dinner lately. He was fun to have around, Harry thought.

“Okay, I have a proposition for the both of you,” he told them.

“Anything, sir.”

“What is your wish, Master?”

“I have been thinking about this for some time, and I was going to tell you about it, Kreacher,” he explained. “I would like for you to take wages.”

“Excuse me, Master? House elves do not take wages, sir,” croaked Kreacher.

“They do now,” said Harry, “I want you to feel like you’re a part of our family and not slaves. So, my proposition is this: you will take one galleon a month, which is what Dobby took at Hogwarts, and two days a month for yourselves. During those two days, you won’t have to work here, and you’ll be able to enjoy yourselves,” explained Harry.

It was obvious that the elves were considering this with a grain of salt, though. They were very used to being slaves and the idea of taking wages and vacation time seemed foreign. After five minutes of silent consideration, Kreacher stood up.

“Kreacher would be honoured to accept Master Harry’s offer, sir,” he said.

“Winky as well, sir,” piped Winky.

Harry clapped his hands and smiled, “Excellent,” he said, taking two galleons from his pocket and handing each of them one. “Now, I would like you to make a nice dinner for me and Ginny, please,” he told them. They both smiled and hurried into the kitchen. Harry could hear Kreacher croak pointers to the female elf every now and then.

As was usual, Ginny was due to arrive one hour after Harry. So to kill time and take the image of Alfonso’s body from his mind, he set out to finish reading a tome on advanced Charms that he had started the day before.

At seven thirty, Harry and Ginny sat at the dinner table enjoying a romantic dinner prepared by Winky and Kreacher.

“That was a good thing you did, Harry. They really do deserve it,” said Ginny, smiling at her fiancé.

“They really do,” he said. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

Ginny nodded and Harry told her all about the case he had been assigned to. Even without saying it, Ginny already knew he was blaming himself, “Harry James Potter, that was absolutely not your fault.”

“Didn’t say it was, Gin,” he told her. Ginny squinted at him and snorted.

“Yeah, you better not think that,” she told him.

“Robards said almost the exact same thing,” he said, grinning.

“Well, Robards sounds like a great man,” said Ginny. “Let’s just hope that was just a taunt on their part, though,” she finished, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it.

As the days wore on, however, Harry realised she had been wrong. Over the next three weeks, there were a total of ten disappearances, all of which ended in the brutal murder of the victim. Harry and Abby were stumped, as the only piece of relevant information was that all victims were half-bloods who lived in the muggle world. This didn’t give them any clues, though, as there were thousands of people who matched that description, and there was no other pattern to the attacks.

He had been keeping correspondence with Mary, though he tended to avoid mentioning the gruesome details. She had much the same to say to him as Ginny and Robards, and she made sure to stress to him that none of this was his fault. On her end, school had been going as usual, with the occasional drama among students, which, according to Mary didn’t hold a candle to Harry’s shenanigans in his school years.

Two weeks later, finally, it was Christmas break. Harry took the day off so that he could pick Mary up at King’s Cross Station. Ginny hadn’t been able to pull that off, and so Harry was alone when the train stopped at platform 9 ¾. He had been mobbed by reporters, naturally, but he had shrugged them off and stood by a group of parents waiting for the kids to step off.

Something was wrong, though. He almost sensed it...

Almost as soon as the train fully stopped, a loud bang rang through the station, and Harry’s attention was pulled to the front of the platform. Bricks and dust flew in every direction, and screams tore through the previously calm atmosphere. A group of around ten cloaked figured was firing spells every which way, and chaos reigned.

Harry sought out those Aurors that were there to pick their kids up and together they made their way to the commotion. Of course, as soon as the Death Eaters spotted Harry, they trained their wands on him. The other Aurors were faster, though. Duels broke out in every direction, and Harry found himself fighting against two Death Eaters he recognized as Dolohov and Yaxley. How those two had escaped conviction after the Battle of Hogwarts was beyond him.

He knew that they were outnumbered, and he saw with horror that a big hole had been blown out of one of the train compartments. Students were slipping past them, trying to get away from the fight. Harry didn’t blame them, really, but he also noticed a couple of seventh years who took it upon themselves to shield the younger students. Smiling at that, he cast a Bombarda at the ground between the Death Eaters, and Dolohov and Yaxley were blown off their feet, barely able to cushion their fall with a spell.

He heard a number of Death Eaters fire spells at the students themselves, and with a pang of horror saw a couple of people strewn around the platform floor. With a silent prayer that they were only unconscious, Harry started duelling with another cloaked figure. He didn’t recognize this one, though. Through the haze, he heard a familiar drawl fire the “Sectumsempra” curse and a shriek. He hoped against hope that whoever it had hit would be treated quickly.

One of his own was blasted backwards, a soft groan escaping him as he hit the hard concrete. A silver flash went past him, barely missing his right shoulder. Rubble was strewn around the floor haphazardly, making it difficult to navigate the platform. Somehow, he found himself facing another Death Eater. His wand was trained on two small first-years who looked to be twins, their eyes glistening with tears and their voices hoarse from screaming.

“HEY!” shouted Harry, fire in his eyes. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, huh?”

The Death Eater pointed his wand at him and yelled, “REDUCTO!”

Harry deflected in within an inch of it hitting him and shot a flurry of spells the man’s way. _Rictumsempra. Stupefy. Impedimenta. Expelliarmus._ He thought each spell swiftly and waved his wand every which direction, hopefully confusing his enemy. Unfortunately, the other man was well-versed in defensive spells, for he deflected each with ease, though the last one almost made him lose his footing. Recovering quickly, he sent his own barrage, murder in his voice.

“Incarcerous, Confringo, Reducto,” he yelled, bright lights filling Harry’s vision. He deflected the first two and almost failed to protect himself against the Reducto, which knocked him four feet back. The Death Eater stood over him menacingly, a vicious snarl on his face. “CRUCIO!” he yelled.

Pain like he hadn’t felt in a long time coursed through his body. He writhed as what felt like needles made their way over his arms, his stomach, his mind. White hot pain shot through his forehead, bile forming in his throat as memories of his fourth year flooded his mind. Muffled cries could be heard overhead, but his senses were numb.

Salvation came in the form of a rock thrown by one of the first-year twins. It hit the Death Eater clean on the side of his head, stunning him for a second. A second, luckily, was all Harry needed. Free from the wrenches of the Cruciatus curse, he kicked the legs from under the Death Eater and cast a Full Body-Bind curse on him. Turning to the kids, he smiled and nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, getting to his feet. “Now go somewhere safe, I’ll take it from here.”

Frustrated that he’d let himself be outsmarted, he growled and made sure to cast a protective charm over the straggling students still piling from the train. After that, he fired a quick succession of Disarming and Stunning spells at the cloaked men. Some of them hit their mark, leaving their enemies vulnerable. Harry saw at least four Aurors on the ground, though he didn’t think they were badly injured.

He had spoken too soon, though. Turning around to engage in another duel, he heard the fateful _Avada Kedavra_ and saw the flash of green light. It was as if the world had been sunk into slow motion. In what seemed like hours, but were really just milliseconds, Harry saw McKinnon’s body crumple to the ground.

With a yell, Harry Stunned the Death Eater he had been duelling and instead turned to the one that had cast the Killing Curse. Channelling all of his power into his wand, he yelled the first spell he had said out loud since the defeat of Voldemort.

“Stupefy!”

The Death Eater was blasted backwards several feet, where he crumpled to the ground with a sickening crunch. After noticing their dwindling numbers, most of the Death Eaters took out a small object from their cloaks and promptly disappeared with a pop. The only one left was the one Harry had stunned.

Harry ran to McKinnon’s body and knelt down beside it. He was gone. He growled in frustration and turned to the crumpled Death Eater, where Abby was already checking for a pulse. When she caught his eye, she shook her head.

“He’s dead too,” she told him. Harry could only nod as another yell brought him out of his reverie. Someone was calling out his name.

He ran along the platform, where Robards was kneeling beside a small limp figure on the floor. She had long blonde hair and had a long gash on her abdomen, from the left side of her hip to just below her right arm. Harry stepped forward slowly and dropped to his knees beside Robards, a defeated look in his eyes. A small pair of round glasses lay on the ground, its frame and lenses shattered. By the time he found his voice, it was hoarse, all the fight leaving his body.

“ _Little one?_ ”


	22. Chapter 22

“Little one?”

Harry’s voice sounded far away, almost a stranger’s. He felt numb, and all he could do was stare at the limp figure of Mary lying on the floor of the platform. Her sliced stomach had stopped bleeding, courtesy of a healing charm from Robards. Her eyes were closed and she looked deathly pale. Harry reached over hesitantly and placed two fingers to her throat.

When he felt the slow heartbeat he let out a long breath he didn’t know he had been holding. At least she was alive, he thought. As if moved only by sheer force of will, he stood up and started instructing Aurors to secure a perimeter and get the injured to St. Mungo’s. He looked back at Mary, who was now being gently hoisted up by Robards.

“I’ll take her, Robards. Please,” pleaded Harry. He couldn’t leave her alone; he just couldn’t. _No turning back now,_ he thought ruefully.

Robards just nodded and slowly placed Mary’s tiny body in Harry’s arms. With a last look at the platform, he Apparated to the vestibule of St. Mungo’s. He rushed to the front desk, where a short witch with long mousy hair was writing down the last details of another of the injured. Harry waited patiently until it was his turn, tapping his foot. The immaculate walls and floor of the hospital seemed to be mocking him and his ward, grime and blood covering them almost head to toe. When it was his turn, he stepped forward.

“Please, I need a Healer for her. She was hit with a Slashing curse.”

When the witch took a look at him, she gasped. Harry rolled her eyes and frowned. “Yes, I’m Harry bloody Potter, now will you please get me a room for my child?” he almost yelled. He was getting desperate, he realised.

With a quick nod, the short witch stepped through a back door and reappeared two minutes later with a tall red-haired wizard.

“Hello, Mr. Potter, I’m Healer Peralta. Please follow me this way,” the man said, gesturing to a door to the side of the hallway.

Harry followed the man inside and looked around. It was a simple room with white walls, a bed and a nightstand to one side. He walked slowly toward the bed and gently placed Mary on it as if she might shatter from the impact. When he checked for a pulse again, his eyes widened. He looked at the Healer and beckoned for him to approach the bed.

“I can’t feel it, I can’t,” he kept saying. Once the Healer stood to the side of Mary’s bed and began his inspection, Harry crumpled onto a chair that he magicked wandlessly. Trying as hard as he could not to think of Mary, and focusing on a happy memory, he produced a number of Patroni to let his family know where he was. The Healer eyed him curiously but continued his inspection wordlessly.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Potter. She’s still with us, albeit very weak,” the Healer assured Harry, who sighed and put his face in his hands.

“Thank God,” exclaimed Harry.

“I just need to run some test to make sure she’s out of the woods. She did lose a great amount of blood,” Peralta informed him, pointing at the bloodstained robes and her pale face. “Would you mind waiting for me out in the waiting room?”

Harry could only nod curtly and slump his way back into the waiting room, where he sat down shakily on one of the chairs. Scores of patients and their relatives were sat all around the waiting room. They seemed too consumed in their own maladies that they barely spared a glance for Harry. For that, he was grateful. He was only brooding for a few minutes before his fiancée appeared in the vestibule and spotted him. She ran to him and engulfed him in a fierce hug.

“Oh Merlin, Harry, you scared the crap out of us, you know?” she told him. Harry chuckled softly despite himself.

“Sorry about that, love,” he said, kissing her deeply.

“How’s she doing?” asked Ginny as they both sat down on the couch.

“The Healer says she’s fine for now, but he’s doing some tests just to be sure,” he informed her, hanging his head low and running his hands through his dishevelled hair, “They were looking for me, Gin.”

Ginny promptly cuffed him hard on the back of his head and glared daggers at him, “Harry James Potter, what did I say about blaming yourself?”

“I know, Gin. But you didn’t see them!” he retorted, a haunted look in his eyes. The image of ten or so cloaked figures training their wands on him, poised to kill, floated in his mind’s eye. “As soon as they saw me, they all pointed their wands at me. It was clear I was their main target, and look where it’s gotten Mary.”

Ginny’s eyes softened at the defeated tone in her fiancé’s voice. She hadn’t heard him talk like that in a long time, and she didn’t like it.

“Maybe you were, but you know how those Death Eaters are, Harry. They are vicious creatures who enjoy chaos,” she reminded him. At that moment, Ron and Hermione stepped out of one of the fireplaces and walked over to the couple.

“We got your Patronus. Is she alright?” Hermione said by way of greeting. Harry nodded numbly and hung his head again. Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to her brother and her friend.

“She’s okay for now. The Healer’s doing some tests. This genius here is blaming himself for it, though,” she said, jerking her thumb towards Harry.

“Why am I not surprised?” said Ron, sitting close to his best friend, “Mate, this is not your fault. You couldn’t have seen this coming. Not even Kingsley did, and he’s the Minister.”

“They were looking for me, Ron. They wanted to kill me for killing their master,” said Harry, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’ve been killing half-bloods living in the muggle world for a month now just to prove a goddamn point.”

“Why, though? I mean, I know they’re not big fans of non-purebloods, but why them?” asked Ron, raising his eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. “Probably to taunt me. I’m a half-blood who lived half his life in the muggle world, so maybe they’re trying to scare me?”

Ron snorted and clapped Harry’s shoulder. “Good luck scaring you, mate,” he said with a lopsided grin. The look Harry had when he finally lifted his head almost made him eat his words. Harry’s eyes were bloodshot, and tears were staining his cheeks. The bright green of his eyes had almost faded, leaving a husk of the old sparkle that they once held.

“I am scared, mate. I’m terrified,” he whispered, a haunted look taking shape in his features, “I’m not afraid to die, but to think of what they would do to get to me...” he trailed off, looking at some far off point.

Hermione stepped in and embraced her best friend. “You are not alone in this, Harry. You have us, don’t forget that,” she reminded him.

“I know that, ‘Mione, but how long will it be until it’s Ginny or you or Ron on that bed and you don’t wake up. I couldn’t take that,” he whispered.

“You won’t lose us, Harry. I promise,” said Hermione, tightening the pressure.

After a few moments, they pulled away. Still looking down, Harry said, “It was Malfoy.”

“What? Draco Malfoy?” asked Ginny, venom in her voice. Harry shook his head.

“Lucius Malfoy. He was never imprisoned, so he must have been gathering followers this past year and a half. I would recognize that voice anywhere, though,” he assured them. They all nodded solemnly before Mary’s room door flew open and Healer Peralta stepped out.

“Good news, Mr. Potter. She’s going to be just fine,” he said. Harry jumped out of his chair and looked hopefully at the door and the room beyond, “She’s sleeping right now, and she’ll have a small scar on her abdomen. You can see her if you’d like.”

Harry nodded and walked into Mary’s room. He saw the little girl lying on the bed. Her bloodstained clothes had vanished and been replaced by a white hospital gown. The colour had returned to her face, and she looked quite peaceful.

Harry sat down on the chair by the bed and grasped Mary’s hand in his, looking into her face. In his pocket were Mary’s shattered glasses. _Occulus Reparo,_ he thought, and the pieces mended themselves. He placed it gently on the nightstand and took her hand again.

“I’m so sorry, little one. I’m so sorry... I told you I’d protect you and you still got hurt,” he said. He didn’t notice Ginny standing by the door, watching him. “But I promise on my life that I will find them. They will not get away with this,” he promised, more firmly than before.

Ginny laid her head on the doorframe and smiled lightly. She knew there was almost no changing his mind at all. He would always blame himself for other people’s suffering, even if there was no possible way he could have prevented it. She gave him some time and retreated to the waiting room where she sat beside Ron and Hermione. Ten minutes of awkward silence later, Harry emerged from the room to give Mary some privacy. He plopped down on one of the chairs and covered his face in his hands.

“I killed a man,” he said simply. Ginny and Hermione stopped their chat in their tracks, and Ron paled looking at his best friend.

Ginny was the first to recover and she placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. He tensed but didn’t shy away from it.

“That man hit McKinnon with the Killing Curse. After that, I just couldn’t think,” he said quietly, ‘I fired a stunning spell at him. Hit him square in the chest. He flew backwards like thirty feet and hit his head on the platform.”

“It’s not your fault, love,” assured Ginny, “I’m not saying what you did was okay, but it’s not like you were trying to kill him,” she reasoned.

“You don’t understand, I wanted to _hurt_ him. I even yelled the spell out loud,” he replied, tears in his eyes, “I haven’t felt that much hatred since I used the Cruciatus in the Battle of Hogwarts,” he finished lamely.

 _Ginny, of course, didn’t know about that_ , Harry thought. She frowned and hugged him tightly, her brother and best friend still staring at the exchange. “When did this happen?” she asked.

“When we were in the Ravenclaw common room, looking for the diadem,” he explained, “One of the Carrows, I forget their names, spat on Minerva’s face, and I just... lost it. I fired the Curse at him and watched him suffer. He was out cold in a couple of minutes.”

“You were just protecting McGonagall, Harry,” said Ginny, “Even if you weren’t, he deserved what he got,” she spat, pure venom spilling out of her mouth. Harry looked at her with wide eyes.

“But that’s the point,” he said, “I was protecting McGonagall, nothing more. I could have just Disarmed him, but instead chose to torture him,” he finished in a whisper.

“I think I know why you did it, Harry,” piped Hermione. Harry smiled a little despite himself. Leave it to Hermione to explain this with logic and facts.

“You had been hearing about the horrible things Voldemort had done to Hogwarts, the place you first called home. You knew from Neville and others that the Carrows were torturing students, and seeing Carrow spit on McGonagall was the embodiment of all the bad that Voldemort had caused onto your home,” she explained. Harry nodded slightly.

“I guess...” he conceded, “That still doesn’t make it okay, though.”

“I never said it was,” said Hermione, “But you have to stop worrying about the things you did in the war, Harry. We all did things we’re not proud of.”

“I know you’re right. It’s just hard,” he said, “And when I saw this man fall to the ground it just came screaming back to me...”

Everyone nodded as they descended into a solemn silence. For a few minutes, no one spoke. It was as though the air had been sucked out of the waiting room, an eerie atmosphere bearing down on them. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all shared looks, their eyes drifting to the black-haired man. At one point, Harry sighed.

“What if I’ve gone bad?”

The rest stared at him in shock as they took in the magnitude of his question. Ron leaned forward and gave Harry a quizzical look.

“What do you mean, bad?” he asked.

“What if I’m just tainted? What if having Voldemort’s soul in me for so long has changed me?”

“Now, that’s just crazy, mate,” said Ron. Hermione cuffed him on the head, but it was too late.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Harry exploded, standing up. Both Ron and Hermione jumped back, but Ginny stood her ground, looking at him with concern in her eyes. Red and blue sparks were flying from his fingertips, and his eyes had changed to a dark shade of green.

“You don’t know how it feels to have this gnawing sensation in the back of your head every minute of every day,” he said quietly, so Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had to strain their ears to hear him. “This... poison, draining you of any shred of self-worth until you... until...”

After a moment, he sat back down and promptly started crying.

Ginny was only startled for a second before she flung her arms around her fiancé and held him tightly. She knew the war was still a sensitive subject for him, and he was most definitely not over his nightmares. She let him sob into her shoulder for a few minutes until it subsided to soft whimpers.

Around them, the other witches and wizards stared at the man, shock evident on their faces. Harry himself was shocked, his mind swimming in darkness and despair. How had things gone to shit so quickly? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something inside him told him it was his fault. With a sigh, he willed the tears to stop flowing.

He recomposed himself, separating himself from his fiancée. His eyes drifted over the people in the room until they landed on his best friend. “I’m sorry, Ron,” he said, his eyes downcast. “I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that,” he apologized, scratching the back of his head.

Ron smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “No worries, mate,” he assured Harry, shaking his head. “You have a lot on your plate right now, and not being supportive won’t help you. I know I’m a downright prat sometimes,” he said.

Despite himself, Harry chuckled and finally found his friend’s eyes. “Only sometimes?” he teased. Ron stuck out his tongue as they foursome drifted into more pleasant small talk.

Mary, fortunately, woke up hours after the doctors were done with her. Harry had fallen asleep by her side, drool drooping from his mouth and onto the bed sheets. His glasses were askew and he had bags under his eyes. Gently, she poked him.

“Wake up, Harry,” she said softly, her voice hoarse.

With a start, he jolted upwards, looking every which way. When he spotted Mary’s beautiful green eyes, he had to restrain himself from hugging her senseless.

“Mary!” he exclaimed, a wave of relief coursing through his body. “I was so worried, oh my god.”

“What... what happened?” she asked, almost scared of the answer.

Harry looked down and sighed, reality kicking back in. “Some Death Eaters attacked the station,” he told her. “One of them hit you with a horrible curse.”

“Is everyone else okay?” she asked immediately. _Such a selfless little girl,_ he thought proudly.

“We lost one Auror, and some students and Aurors alike were injured,” he informed her. “I wish I didn’t have to say it, but we were lucky.”

“I’m sorry about your Auror, Harry,” she whispered, placing a hand over his.

“It’s okay, little one.”

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said with a smile.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “You think I’d leave you behind?”

“Of course not, just...” She rolled her eyes. “Just accept my thanks.”

“As you say, little one,” he teased, smirking. “I’m just glad you’re alright...”

Three days later, Harry was back in Mary’s room. Robards had let him take the week off to be with his family. For that, he was grateful. He was waiting for Mary to step out of the loo. After a few minutes, she opened the door and smiled brightly at Harry. A smile that could have lit up the entirety of St. Mungo’s, Harry thought. He could barely contain his own grin.

Gently, she stood on her tiptoes and hugged him tightly, “Hey, Harry,” she said.

“Hello, little one.” He returned the pressure in kind, “Ready to go?’ he asked.

“Yup,” she quipped, following Harry out of the room and into the reception. There, Harry had to sign a bunch of documents releasing her from the hospital, and they were free. She took hold of his right arm and they Apparated to the small woods outside Harry’s property.

They walked through the trees, their feet crushing the small layer of snow that had formed over the past week. Birds chirped overhead, a beautiful song to contrast the monotony of the hospital they’d left behind. Where the trees thinned, they could see the two-storey house in its entirety. Through the living room window, Mary saw that a fire had been lit.

“Wow!’ she exclaimed with wide eyes. As they walked, she took in every detail of the house. It was beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to see the inside. When they stepped up to the door, Kreacher opened it and bowed to them deeply.

“Welcome Miss Windsor,” he said.

“Hello, Kreacher,” she replied sweetly, smiling at the elf.

They entered the living room, where Ginny was sitting on a chesterfield with baby Teddy in her arms.

“Teddy!” squealed Mary, making a beeline for the redhead. Teddy was now sporting bright red hair and a bunch of freckles on his face. Besides his golden brown eyes, he was the spitting image of the Weasley kids.

Harry approached them and kissed Ginny, “Hey, love. I didn’t know you were here,” he said.

“Gwen let me take half the day off, so I picked Teddy up on my way here,” she explained.

Harry nodded and sat down next to his fiancée. Mary made an effort to kneel beside the coffee table and gaped at a pile of sweets and chocolates. There were chocolate frogs, pumpkin pastries, Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans, among other sweets. Mary looked at Harry and grinned.

“These got left to you by the rest of the Weasleys,” he told her, “You can have some while I go talk to Kreacher about dinner, alright? But don’t eat too many.”

Mary nodded enthusiastically and started opening chocolate frogs while Harry made his way to the kitchen. He asked the elves to prepare a nice welcome back dinner for Mary. He wasn’t even gone two minutes when a loud squeal issued from the living room. He immediately ran into the room, where Mary and Ginny were laughing at what looked to be a chocolate frog card.

“What is it?” he asked, his eyes darting between his fiancée and his ward.

Mary said nothing and handed Harry the chocolate frog card. Confused, he picked it up and groaned at the content:

_Harry James Potter._

_Considered to be a wizard with skills akin to Albus Dumbledore and Merlin himself, Potter is particularly famous for his defeat of You-Know-Who in 1998, at the age of seventeen. Training to become an Auror, Potter is revered by many to be a beacon of hope for modern time witches and wizards. He enjoys Quidditch almost as much as his fiancée, Harpies’ Chaser Ginevra Weasley._

A picture of Harry himself was looking up at him behind round glasses. It looked to be one of the pictures they had taken of him for some article or other in the Daily Prophet when the war ended. “Was this really necessary?” he asked rolling his eyes.

“Oh Harry, it’s a great honour,” quipped Mary, “They even mention Ginny at the end.”

‘And I’m extremely flattered,’ added Ginny.

“I know, but Merlin? That’s kind of stretching it, wouldn’t you think?” asked Harry.

“Have you forgotten that you’re the only wizard to be able to cast a non-verbal Patronus since Merlin knows when?” retorted Ginny.

“Yeah, but—,”

“Or that you single-handedly beat the entire Auror department with little to no training? Or that you Disarmed Kingsley without a wand, for Merlin’s sake!” said Mary, raising her eyebrows at him.

Harry rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders, “Okay, I can give you those,” he said reluctantly.

“Just take it in stride, love,” said Ginny, kissing his forehead. Teddy slowly walked up to his godfather and curled up in his lap, promptly turning his hair a darker shade of red and his eyes green, keeping the freckles for good measure. Mary smiled broadly and tilted her head.

“He looks so much like your son, guys,” she said, “When are you having one of your own?” she asked. They both blushed and it was Harry who answered.

“I don’t think we’re having kids for a while now, little one. Maybe in a couple of years,” he said. Ginny nodded beside him.

“Okay, I’m just saying, you guys would be excellent parents,” she told them. They smiled at her and gave her a hug, careful not to squeeze too hard.

As there were three days left until Christmas, the three of them spent the following day decorating the house for their guests. Harry had convinced Molly to let them celebrate Christmas at the Potter household. They hadn’t decided on a name for their house yet, as it was necessary to connect it to the Floo Network, so they were using that one temporarily.

All in all, despite the rocky start, the Christmas holidays were shaping up to be quite nice.


	23. Chapter 23

After having settled Mary in her room, Harry decided to get some Christmas shopping done, as the hubbub of the train’s attack had made it slip his mind. And so, on December 23rd, Harry and Mary set out to Diagon Alley.

When they stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, Tom greeted them and promised to save them a table for lunch. Mary still felt queasy when Apparating, so they decided to use the Floo. Their first stop was Gringotts, where Harry extracted around ten thousand galleons.

“Are you really spending all that on Christmas presents?” asked Mary after they had exited the marble building.

“First of all, I take Christmas shopping very seriously,” he reminded her, “And second, no I am not spending it all on presents. I just like to take out a little extra for the rest of the month.”

“Or the rest of the year,” she added with a smirk.

Harry laughed and draped his arm around her, “Something like that,” he said.

After Gringotts, they visited Quality Quidditch Supplies. Both of them browsed the store for about twenty minutes before Harry purchased a small practice broom for Teddy. He was nearing two years, and Harry wanted to spoil him rotten.

They visited a number of stores, leaving each of them with shrunken bags in their pockets. By the end of their shopping spree, they were exhausted and decided to head into the Cauldron. Tom was waiting for them behind the bar.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. Right this way, if you please?” he said, gesturing to a table in a corner. Harry was grateful that it was somewhat secluded, as he didn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to Mary or himself. They had a pleasant meal, filled with conversation about Mary’s school term and Harry’s training program.

“So how is Neville doing as Sprout’s assistant?” asked Harry.

“I think he’s doing amazing,” she replied, “He’s very fun to have around, and really knows his way around those plants.”

“Yeah, that was his best subject when we were there,” said Harry.

“A lot of the older students look at him in awe most of the time, too,” she said, smiling, “and he gets super embarrassed about it.”

“Well, he better get used to it. He’s a hero,” he replied.

“Wasn’t he the one who killed Voldemort’s snake?” she asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, he did. One day, I’ll tell you more about that,” he promised.

Mary was beaming as they paid for their food and stepped into muggle London. They walked toward a shopping mall and went into a couple of stores there. Harry explained that he thought they shouldn’t always be dependent on magic. Mary nodded and followed him around. Although her mother had been muggleborn, she had very rarely been exposed to the wonders of muggle livelihood.

As they were exiting a store called Macy’s, Harry stopped dead on his tracks. Mary almost bumped into him and looked up at him quizzically, “What is it, Harry?”

Harry, however, didn’t respond. He was looking at one particular person walking their way, speaking on their cell phone, “Dudley?” he said.

Dudley Dursley looked up and his eyes widened as he spotted his cousin. Making an excuse, he hung up the phone. He approached them with a smile on his face.

“Harry! How have you been?” he exclaimed.

“Been just fine, Duds,” replied Harry, “It’s been, what?”

“A year and a half, I know,” he said, nodding, “I’d love to explain. Do you have some time?”

“Actually, yes. We’ve just finished our Christmas shopping,” said Harry, gesturing to the bags and Mary, who was standing behind him looking at Dudley. Her look was apprehensive, Harry noticed.

Dudley knelt and smiled at the little girl, “And who might this be?”

“Oh, sorry. Mary, this is my cousin Dudley,” he pointed at him, “Dudley, this is my daughter, Mary.”

The larger man’s head snapped up at Harry, “Daughter?”

“Well, I’m her legal guardian, actually. Her parents passed away last year, and I took responsibility for her,” explained Harry.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mary,” he said, extending his hand to the girl. Mary took it warily but kept her place behind her guardian.

“What is it, little one?” Harry asked Mary.

“Isn’t he the one who bullied you when you were younger?” she asked him, squinting at Harry’s cousin. At this, Dudley went scarlet and he scratched his head.

“That’s true, but Dudley here has changed and apologized,” he replied, “I’m assuming Ginny told you about this?” Again, Mary nodded.

“Ah, I read about your and Ginny’s engagement, by the way,” said Dudley, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Duds,” replied Harry. They made their way to a bench in a nearby park and sat down. “So, how come you haven’t written in over a year?”

“You see, a couple of days after we met, Dad fell very ill,” he said with a solemn face.

“What was it?” asked Harry. He wasn’t really concerned for Vernon, but he had forced himself to care for his cousin.

Dudley drew a long breath and said, “He was diagnosed with cancer.”

Harry nodded and placed a reassuring hand on Dudley’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry Duds.”

“Thanks,” he replied, “Anyway, I took it upon myself to care for him. Mum was very distraught but helped me anyway. Around six months ago, we had to put him in a hospital. I don’t think he’ll make it more than a year more,” he finished, closing his eyes.

Harry didn’t know what to say, so he reapplied the pressure on his cousin’s shoulder.

“By the time I had enough time to write to you, it had just slipped my mind. I’ve been working as a boxing instructor, I guess to blow off steam,” he explained.

“Why am I not surprised?” Harry laughed, “You always knew your way around punching bags,’ he teased.

“That I did. And it really does help keep my mind away from my dad, you know,” replied Dudley. “I know you don’t really care about him, but thank you for being respectful about it.” Harry couldn’t deny his claim, so he nodded. After that, they both drifted into a more pleasant chat about their lives.

“Hey, how would you like to come to our wedding, Duds?” asked Harry finally. Dudley was gobsmacked, and he blinked a couple of times before answering,

“Er, you really mean that?”

“Of course, you’re family.”

Dudley considered this for a moment before nodding, “Do you think Ginny will be okay with it? She wasn’t really fond of me the last time we saw each other.”

“I can convince her, I think,” said Harry, smiling, “It would mean a lot to me if you did. Although I must warn you, there’s going to be a lot of magical folk around,” he warned his cousin.

“Don’t worry about that, Harry. I got very used to witches and wizards during the war. I’ve actually been seeing someone, too,” he assured them, scratching the back of his head and looking down.

“Really? That’s great, Duds. How long?”

“It was a year last month, I believe,” said Dudley, scratching his chin.

“Long time,” said Harry nodding, “What’s her name?”

“Her name’s Cho. She’s got long black hair and the prettiest face I’ve ever seen,” replied Dudley dreamily. Harry was shocked, and he took a moment before speaking again.

“She wouldn’t happen to be Cho Chang, right?”

“Yes, actually. How’d you know?” asked Dudley. Suddenly wide-eyed, he said, “Don’t tell me she’s...”

“Yeah, she is. She was one year ahead of me in school,” explained Harry. Mary was watching the exchange with interest, as he hadn’t heard about this part of her guardian’s life.

“Damn, I never would have guessed,” said Dudley, scratching his head, ‘I mean, I don’t care that she’s a witch. I’ve grown past that, but it still comes as a shock. Especially since I introduced her to my parents and they liked her.”

“I guess you’re right. How’d you guys meet, anyway?” he said, trying to change the path of the conversation.

“She came to my gym around a month after you saw me. Her father had died, and she said she wanted to protect herself,” he explained solemnly, “We hit it off after two months, and I asked her out. She’s my everything.”

“I’m very happy for you. I’ll try and convince Ginny and I’ll send you the invitation. I’m guessing she doesn’t even know you’re my cousin, right?” said Harry with a smirk.

“Not really, no. Your name never really came up.”

“Can you please write to me about her reaction when you tell her?” he said with an even bigger smile.

Dudley quirked her eyebrow up but agreed nonetheless. They said their goodbyes and Dudley hurried off to a parking lot nearby. Harry and Mary made their way to a deserted alley and Apparated to Potter Manor. He hadn’t chosen the name, obviously, but Ginny brought up the fair point that with the inevitable expansions, their house would eventually be befitting to the name.

Their wards did not allow for Apparition inside the house, so they had to walk up the path from the edge of the tree line. When they reached the door, Kreacher was there to greet them with an open door. They thanked the elf and walked into the living room, where Ginny was looking amusedly at a chocolate frog card.

“Are you still looking at my card?” asked Harry exasperatedly. She had kept it by their bedside table the past two days, claiming it was there to protect her. It still drove Harry crazy, but he tried not to argue.

“Not this time. They made me one!” she exclaimed, handing Mary the card. Harry stood behind her and read over her shoulder.

_Ginevra Molly Weasley_

_Currently engaged to Harry James Potter, ‘Ginny’ Weasley is known for being among the leading charge of the rebellion inside Hogwarts during the Great War, as well as fulltime Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, the all-female Quidditch team._

A picture of Ginny, clad in Quidditch training gear, was staring back at them with a small smile. The freckles on her face glistened in the candlelight, and her chocolate brown eyes were filled with happiness and pride.

“Gin, this is amazing,” said Harry with a chuckle, “Congratulations, love,” he sat down next to her and gave her a kiss.

“Guess who we ran into today?” asked Mary as she plopped down on the couch opposite them.

“Who?”

“Dudley,” replied Harry.

“Your cousin, Dudley?” she asked with contempt in her voice. Mary shot Harry a look that clearly said: “Told you she wouldn’t like it”.

“Yeah. We were walking down muggle London and we bumped into him,” he explained, “We got to catching up, and guess who he’s dating?”

“Cho Chang,” said Mary before Ginny had a chance to speak.

“WHAT?” she exclaimed loudly. She shot up and looked at her fiancé for confirmation, who just nodded.

“Yeah, I was pretty shocked too. Plus, he didn’t even know she was a witch,” he reasoned, “He was pretty understanding when I told him, though. He loves her.”

“Does she know he’s your cousin, though?”

“Not really. We don’t share a last name, and my name never came up in their conversations, whatever it is they talk about.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Ginny, sitting back down and resting her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” he told her.

“Anything, love,” she replied.

“I would like to invite Dudley to our wedding.” He almost whispered, for fear that she would lash out at him for suggesting such a thing.

“Why, though? Why would you invite someone who tormented you for seventeen years?” she asked him. She was trying hard to understand his reasoning, but he seemed hell-bent on reconnecting with his cousin.

“I told you, Gin. They’re the only blood relatives I have left, and those ties are very scarce in my life. I just need to feel like I haven’t lost that connection to my parents, even if it is through Dudley,” he explained.

Ginny sighed and looked into his bright green eyes. They seemed to be sparkling in the candlelight, and she had to hold back another long sigh. She loved him, and she would do anything to make him happy. Finally, Ginny nodded and kissed him.

“Okay. I can’t say I’m okay with this, but I guess I can endure it for you,” she said with a smile.

“You are the best, you know that?”

“That, I do. That, I do,” she told him, grinning at him.

Two days later, Harry and Ginny sat at that same spot, surrounded by their family and opening presents. Everyone got their standard Weasley jumper, which Mary was ever thankful for once more. This time, hers was decorated with a small broom across the middle and a snitch to the side. She had said she would try out for the team next year, as the current Seeker was a seventh-year.

“You’ll do amazing,” quipped George, “Haven’t seen such a good Seeker since mister Boy-Who-Lived here,” he told her, jamming a thumb in Harry’s direction. Angelina Johnson, his girlfriend, cuffed him playfully on the back of his head.

Mary, however, smiled at him. Her friends had said as much to her, and she knew that she was good. She just didn’t know if she was Quidditch-team good.

Harry wanted to do all he could to make Mary forget about the incident at the start of the holidays, and went all out with her Christmas present.

When she got to his present, she had already gotten a copy of ‘ _Quidditch through the ages_ ’ and a number of sweets including chocolate frogs. She had gotten into the habit of collecting them, and already had about three of Harry’s card, much to Harry’s annoyance.

She looked the wrapped present over carefully. It was roughly the size of a small briefcase, and she shook it gently to try and guess what it was.

“That won’t work, you gotta unwrap it,” said Harry, smiling from his seat with his arm around his fiancée.

Mary nodded at him and carefully ripped the wrapping paper. Everyone was now looking at her, expectant of what Harry could have gotten her this time. Last year’s present would be hard to top, they all thought. When she was done, she was actually holding a medium-sized trunk with the initials M.W. stamped in the middle in beautiful calligraphy.

It was a light brown, with golden rims on the hinges, and it sported four small silver-lined keyholes in the front. Confused, Mary inspected the locks and gaped at the pretty handwriting showing her initials on the trunk. The leather was coarse under her fingers.

She looked up at Harry and quirked up an eyebrow, “Thanks, Harry. But I think I might not be able to fit all my stuff in it,” she told him, almost apologetically.

Harry smiled knowingly at her and reached into his pocket. In his hand were three keys with three different patterns on the handle, presumably to distinguish between them. He laid them on the table between them, picked the first one up and fitted it into the first lock.

The trunk opened slightly with a click and Harry opened it fully. Inside was what looked like a bookcase. The only odd thing, however, was that it was much too big to be part of such a small briefcase. Mary’s eyes widened and she smiled broadly at Harry.

“This compartment will expand as you add more books into it. I figured that with the increasing amount of school books you’ll be needing over the years, you will need a place to store them neatly.” He hovered his open palm over the stop where the bulk of the books would be stored. “You just say the name of the book you’re looking for, and the briefcase will do the job for you. Sherlock Holmes,” he exclaimed.

A second later, an old leather-bound book whose title was in neat cursive writing materialised beneath Harry’s hand and he took it. He handed it to Mark, who was awestruck.

“Plus, I’ve hidden a couple more novels in there somewhere for you,” he added with a wink. Mary giggled and eyed the other keys, setting the book on the coffee table.

Nodding, Harry closed the lid of the trunk and used the second key to open another lock. Another click revealed a similar compartment to the first; only this one looked more like a wardrobe.

“Again, I know you might want to bring more clothes to school than you can actually carry. This way you can have your entire wardrobe in there, and then some,” explained Harry, “They both use an Undetectable Extension Charm, which Hermione here helped me with,” he added, gesturing toward a blushing Hermione. Mary beamed at her and closed the trunk once more.

Again, Harry repeated the process with the third key and Mary was now looking at a complete stationery set inside her trunk, with extra room for anything she might want to add, “You didn’t think I’d make a trunk for Mary Windsor without a compartment for your drawing supplies, did you?” said Harry, much to Mary’s amusement, “Plus, there’s room in there for your potions ingredients and other stuff.”

Mary instantly launched herself at her guardian, muttering, “thank you, thank you thank you,” over and over again. Ginny was beaming at her fiancé, and Harry kissed the top of Mary’s head.

“You’re very welcome, little one.”

When she loosened the grip on Harry, she looked over at the closed trunk and raised an eyebrow, “Harry, what about that fourth keyhole?”

Harry smiled at her and said, “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

Mary shook her head, “Of course, I’m Sherlock Holmes,” she said matter-of-factly.

Harry chuckled and kissed her forehead. Since Harry had started his collection of books, he and Mary had talked about different novels and books she would like to add to the list. Among them, Arthur Conan Doyle was very prominent in their favourites.

“That, little one, is a secret for later. I wanna show it to you in private,” he told her. This seemed to satisfy Mary, as she set out to inspect the other three compartments and marvel at the intricacy of the magic in them.

“You really made this from scratch, mate?” asked Ron from his seat. His arm was around Hermione, and they had a contented look about them.

“I custom ordered a trunk with four locks and added the magic later. The Undetectable Extension Charm was proving tricky, so I brought in reinforcements,” he added, smiling at Hermione. She nodded at him, burying her head in the nook of Ron’s neck.

“And what about the fourth one? Will you ever tell us what it is?” Ron inquired. This seemed to be a question in everyone’s minds, as all of them leaned forward expecting an explanation. Even Teddy was looking quizzically at Harry from Andromeda’s lap.

Harry shook his head, “That will be for Mary to tell once I show her. It’s something personal for her,” he explained, nodding toward his ward.

They remained there for twenty more minutes, the Christmas spirit ever-present in the room. Hermione was showing Mary the ins and outs of the briefcase, outlining how she’d worked out the magic. Ron and Bill were discussing some joke-shop related business, and Ginny bounced Teddy on her lap as Andromeda made faces at the boy.

Some twenty minutes later, they heard a loud squeal issuing from the kitchen. Drawing his wand instantly, Harry pointed it at the kitchen door, “What is it?” he said firmly.

After a few seconds, Angelina burst through the door and launched herself at Molly. They all looked at them in astonishment, before looking back at the doorframe, where George was regarding her with loving eyes. Everyone was extremely confused, Ron announced, to which George said, “We’re engaged!”

Cheering and congratulations flew around for the next couple of minutes. Ginny, Molly, Mary, Penelope, Hermione, Andromeda, and Fleur were talking to Angelina and asking for every possible detail, as she told them about the romantic proposal he had planned, which might have included a minor prank leading up to it.

Harry and the Weasleys were cheering for their brother and congratulating him on “scoring such a beauty,” as Charlie put it. They all laughed, and Bill produced glasses of firewhisky for them to toast.

“To George and Angelina!” announced Charlie, drops of firewhisky falling onto his neatly-kept beard. They all took a swig and kept making small talk. Teddy started getting sleepy, so Andromeda was the first to leave, promising to bring him by in a few days. After an hour, they all left Harry, Ginny, and Mary to enjoy the last hours of Christmas Day alone. As the last person left, Harry made his way to Mary’s room.

He found her sitting on the bed, neatly stacking her countless books in the first compartment of her trunk. Her smile could have lit up a thousand rooms, Harry thought.

“I see you liked your present,” he said, leaning on the doorframe of her room. She had also loved the drawing supplies he had put in her room and had spent hours sketching different parts of the house for a supposedly secret project.

Mary looked at him and beamed, “I loved it, Harry.”

“Well, you’re about to love it even more,” he told her, dropping the fourth key on the bed. This one was different from the others, as it was silver and had a small house engraved in the handle.

“What is this one?” she asked him.

“You gotta open it to find out,” he said, nodding at the key. “If I were you, I’d set in on the floor, though.”

Confused, she did as he said and promptly fit the silver key in the fourth lock. With a much softer click, the lid opened an inch. When she pulled it up, she was surprised to see what looked like the beginning of a ladder that went down impossibly deep. A light came from inside, and Mary looked quizzically up at Harry.

Seeing her confusion, he took charge. Stepping over her sprawled leg, he quite literally stepped into the trunk, lowering himself down the steps of the ladder. After a few more seconds, he disappeared completely from sight. Aghast, Mary stared at the empty trunk. Harry’s hand suddenly emerged from it, beckoning her to follow him.

Hesitantly, she did as she was told and lowered herself into the trunk with closed eyes. After mere seconds, her feet hit solid ground and she allowed herself to open her eyes again. The sight in front of her was unlike anything she had ever seen.

She was inside what looked to be a small living room, complete with a coffee table, couches, and a stylish Ravenclaw-themed rug. Harry was leaning on the armrest of one of the couches, smiling at his ward. Mary looked around and examined the beige coloured walls and the wood floorboards. Two dark brown doors lined the back wall.

“So? Do you like it?” asked Harry.

Mary was still at a loss for words and stared wide-eyed at him.

He took the hint and explained, “I know sometimes you would really like some privacy. Be it from us, or when you’re up at school. So, I created your own little space where you’ll be able to relax or do your homework undisturbed.”

Mary seemed to have found her voice, “You made all this?” she asked him, to which he nodded, “Harry, this is incredible!” she exclaimed.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

“What’s behind those doors?” she asked him, pointing at the dark brown doors at the back.

“This one,” he started, gesturing to the one on the far left, “is the bathroom, with a working toilet and shower,” he added proudly.

“This is all very complicated magic, Harry,” she pointed out.

“I know. But remember I’m supposed to be the next Merlin or something, so this is nothing,” he joked, smirking at her. Mary laughed and asked about the second door. “This is your room.”

He opened the door and led her into a medium-sized room with a bed, a nightstand, and a desk. The desk was set by a window, which showed the clear night sky outside. Mary looked at Harry, confused.

“The window shows the time outside your trunk, but it can be altered if you really want to,” he explained.

Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the window, “Pluviam Mutatio,” he muttered. Instantly, the weather outside changed to heavy rain, splattering against the glass. Thin trickles of water danced across the pane, odd shapes taking form and dissolving just as quickly. After a few moments, he said the counter charm and the stars returned to the cloudless night sky.

“That was incredible,” exclaimed Mary. Harry smiled at her as he started to show her the rest of the small apartment and its many magical and non-magical features.

Twenty minutes later, they emerged at the top of the ladder with smiles on their faces. As soon as they were standing, Mary launched herself at Harry again.

“Thank you, Harry. This Christmas was even better than last year’s,” she told him.

“You’re welcome, little one. Anything for you,” he said.

They stayed like that until Ginny called them down for dinner, and they enjoyed the meal while Mary told Ginny all about her personal apartment. When she was finished, Ginny looked awestruck at her fiancé.

“You are the best, you know that?” she said.

“That, I do. That, I do,” he replied, grinning at them.


	24. Chapter 24

The week following Christmas Day was quite uneventful, and Mary spent most of her time hanging out with Molly. She had taken to call her Grandma and Molly had been over the moon about it. Harry came back to work on December 26th, and Robards called him into his office first thing in the morning.

When he entered the Auror office, the solemn atmosphere still hung. No one was exactly over McKinnon’s death, especially his partner McGregor. They had become close friends since they were paired together, and Ewan took his death very badly. Harry couldn’t really blame him when he got an intense glare from McGregor when he entered the office. He himself felt more than guilty over the trainee’s death.

He made his way towards Robards’ office and knocked twice. A firm “enter,” issued from inside, and Harry entered to find the Head Auror sat behind his desk, face buried in his hands. The curtains were drawn and Harry could see that the gloomy atmosphere had also infected this office.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” said Harry.

Robards composed himself and fixed Harry with a blank stare, “Yes Potter. Please take a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of his desk. Harry did as he was told.

“First and foremost, I wanted to ask about that little girl of yours. How’s she doing?” asked Robards, not unkindly.

“She’s doing great, sir. Fortunately, she recovered quite well,” replied Harry, to which Robards nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that. With that out of the way, I would like to make you a proposition.”

“Anything, sir.”

“I need you to finish training sooner than expected, Potter,” Robards informed him. Harry was taken aback but nodded nonetheless.

“How much sooner were you thinking, sir,” he replied.

“Before your wedding.”

“But sir, I’m getting married in August,” said Harry, “Do you mean that you’d cut another year off my training? May I ask why?”

“You may. With the tragic death of McKinnon, King and I have realised that numbers are of the essence within the Auror department. Besides, you’re by far our best recruit in the program,” explained Robards.

Harry considered this for a moment, scratching the back of his head and looking down at his feet. After a minute, he looked back at the Head Auror, “What would this imply?”

“Well, you would still be running cases with Auror Smith. She tells me you two have become friends?”

Harry nodded. “We have, she’s been a great help to me. We had to like each other to survive that four-day stakeout last month, really.”

This time, Robards nodded. “Excellent,” he said, “As for added responsibilities, I wanna make you another proposition. Would you like to become an Animagus?” he asked.

“Wow, I never really thought about it. But I guess it would be a great skill to posses in the field,” replied Harry.

“Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, you will start your training with Auror Evans.”

Harry nodded and, after a simple briefing of his added responsibilities, he was dismissed. His first day was spent catching up with Abby and checking out another crime scene. Fortunately, there had been no murder this time; a welcome sight after the previous cases they’d had. The next day, Harry was told to stay after everyone left for home.

After Abby took her leave, Harry made his way to the conference room, where a middle-aged woman was waiting for him, standing by a cauldron. He couldn’t see its contents, but a silver mist was issuing from it. Harry took a seat and greeted the woman. She was of average height, with jet black hair streaked with white strands. She had a gentle smile and her hands were clasped in front of her.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. My name is Auror Evans,” she introduced herself, her voice soft yet commanding.

“Please, call me Harry. It’s nice to meet you,” he replied.

“Nice to meet you too, Harry. Today marks the beginning of your Animagus training. Please, give me your hand.”

He presented his right hand to her, who prickled his forefinger and let three drops of blood drip into the cauldron.

“This potion here will allow you to see which animal you will turn into once your training is complete. It might take a few minutes for you to find it, though.”

She mixed the contents of the cauldron once more and filled a glass with the silvery substance. It looked to be lighter than air, and a slight pink tint was imprinted at the sides of the glass. Harry hesitantly took it and gulped it down in one swig. It stung his throat as it went down, but not uncomfortably so. For a moment, he didn’t feel a thing, until his eyes rolled up into his skull and he fell back onto the chair.

He felt as if he were flying through empty space, and the only thing in there was him. Around him, it was pitch black, yet he knew he was heading somewhere. He just didn’t know where. Trying to focus his eyes to the blinding darkness, he felt a familiar tug at his navel. In a second, he was standing in the middle of a forest at night.

Large oaks and acacia trees surrounded him, pressing down on him. Thin orange rays of sunlight penetrated the canopy of brown leaves, creating patterns on the earth. Shrubbery grew in odd places, the only source of green among the otherwise dead-looking forage. He had a feeling this was the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. There was no defined path, so he decided to start walking slowly forward, hoping this would be over soon. As he ventured deeper, he let out a whistle. No one answered, though. The silence that ensued was almost deafening. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath.

After half an hour of traipsing through the forest, dusk settled over it. The rustle of leaves to his left startled him. He took out his wand and thought _Lumos._ The orb of light that formed at the tip of his wand illuminated the trees in front of him, casting monstrous shadows on the ground.

“Who’s there?” he asked to no one in particular.

He almost jumped back when he noticed two bright white eyes staring back at him from between two acacia trees. He lowered his wand slightly, and the creature stepped forward into the small clearing. It was a black stag, he saw. The fur around its eyes was streaked with brown, and a thin grey line decorated its forehead. _Striking resemblance_ , he thought.

“That must be what I’ll look like,” he reasoned out loud. Hesitantly, he reached forward to pat the animal. Warily, it let the wizard touch its neck. “There you go, buddy,” said Harry. It was soft to the touch, his fingers stroking behind the creature’s ear.

He wondered why he wasn’t waking after having seen his animagus form and looked around. Maybe he had to say it out loud?

“Hey! I’m done!” he exclaimed, startling the stag. The creature jumped back and ran through the trees, leaving Harry alone in the dark. He waved his wand above his head, searching the dark canopy for clues. Nothing happened. He scratched his chin and looked around once more.

A bright flash of light blinded him for a moment, and a gust of strong wind knocked him to the ground. His hands groped the earth for his fallen wand. When he found it, he opened his eyes and his mouth fell open at the sight in front of him. Perched gracefully on one of the lower branches of the trees was a phoenix. It had beautiful red and yellow feathers. Harry was reminded of Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes. The only difference, however, was its piercing bright green eyes.

Harry walked warily towards it and held out his hand. The phoenix regarded him for a moment before lowering its head and resting it on his palm with its eyes closed. As soon as he made contact, another pull at his navel brought him back to reality. He was sitting back on a chair in the conference room, and Auror Evans was looking at him with a thoughtful expression from the desk at the front.

He shook his head and blinked rapidly, trying to regain control of his body. The woman regarded him with a raised eyebrow. When he found his voice he said, “Whoa, that was weird.”

“What was?” asked Evans.

“Well, are you supposed to see more than one?”

“Not really, no. Sometimes, you might see a herd of the animal which will become your animagus form,” explained Evans, crossing her arms over her chest, “I, for instance, saw a flock of eagles flying over a forest.”

‘No, you don’t understand. I saw two different animals.” He was debating internally whether to tell her about the phoenix. Surely phoenix animagi weren’t that common, and he had had his fair share of uncommon things happening to him.

“What was the first one?” she asked gently.

“A stag,” he said.

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “I’m told your father was a stag as well?”

“He was.” The memory of James Potter brought a smile to his face.

Evans’ lips tightened. “What was the other one?”

Harry decided it wasn’t information worth keeping from her. “A phoenix.”

The Auror’s eyes widened and she didn’t say anything for a full minute. “That’s impossible,” she said finally. Harry suppressed a snort and smiled back at her.

“Believe me; impossible things have been happening to me for as long as I can remember,” he assured her. “Does this mean I’ll be able to transform into both a stag and a phoenix?” he asked her.

“Presumably, that’s true. The last known person with more than one Animagus form was Merlin, who had three. It’s said he could turn into a phoenix too, but it was believed to be a myth.”

Harry groaned, but then he had a thought, “Is it possible to register only one of my forms? Technically, I wouldn’t be breaking the law, and it really would be a strategic advantage if the enemy didn’t know about it,” he explained.

“Which would you like to register?” she asked him.

“The stag,” he replied, nodding. He would much rather have people know he was his father’s son, through and through.

Evans nodded and grinned. “Very well, we can arrange that. We will give each of your transformations a try once a week, although I’d like for you to practice while at home.”

“What exactly do I do?”

‘First, I want you to concentrate on the magic in your veins. Close your eyes and focus on the beating of your heart. Think about a minor spell, like Lumos, and feel the energy flowing through to your hands. This should be easy for you since you’re pretty good with wandless magic,” she explained.

Harry closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He concentrated on the feel of magic that he usually felt when doing wandless magic. It was like electricity flowing through his arms, up to the tips of his fingers. He pictured it as water flowing and imagined a tap controlling it at the edge of his hands. Letting some of it flow through, he conjured a small ball of flame on the palm of his hand. He let it dance around for a second before closing his hand and extinguishing it.

“Impressive. This should prove quite easy for you, then,” Evans assured him, “The first thing you need to do to become an animagus is to change various parts of your body individually. Once you have the four base parts down pat, you can attempt to change your entire body all at once. The essentials are right arm, left arm, head, and torso. In that order,” she explained, gesturing to each part of her body as she did.

“Right arm, left arm, head, and torso,” repeated Harry. Evans nodded and continued.

“Exactly. We’ll start with the stag today since a phoenix is a magical creature and it might prove to be harder,” she told him, “Concentrate your magic on your right arm, much like you’d strain your muscles, and picture a stag’s hoof in its place. The first time might take a while.’

Harry nodded and closed his eyes once more. He tried to direct his magic to his right arm first, as Evans had told him. He could feel the tingling and heat that he was exuding and imagined the tap closing in on his power. Once he felt he had confidently redirected the energy to his right arm, he pictured the black leg of the stag he had seen while under the potion’s effect. He remembered how it had felt to pet it and feel the black fur beneath his fingertips, ever graceful, like water flowing through a river.

The tingling grew stronger and for a single second, he felt as though his arm had left his body. It felt like a phantom limb, he thought, though not quite. Yet not a second later, his hand was back and he regained feeling in his fingers.

After that, he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. His mind was swimming. He looked around and made eye contact with Auror Evans.

“That was very good for the first time, Harry,” she assured him, “Your arm turned into a leg for a second, though you didn’t see that,” she said with a kind smile. He liked this woman, Harry decided.

“That was not as hard as I thought it would be,” said Harry, looking down at his very human arm.

“I think that’s enough for today, Harry, but we’ll continue this on Friday,” she told him. Harry nodded and shook her hand.

An hour later, Harry sat at the dinner table, telling Ginny and Mary about his experience with the Animagus potion. They both found it fascinating that not only did he have two transformations, but that one of them was a magical creature.

“Oh, does this mean you’ll have the abilities of the phoenix?” asked Mary excitedly.

“Not really sure, little one,” replied Harry truthfully, “I would assume so, though.”

“Being able to lift impossible weights sounds awesome,” said Mary. “I wonder if they can really heal any wound,” she added thoughtfully. Harry and Ginny both smiled at each other. That was a story for another time.

A week later, Harry and Ginny both escorted Mary onto the train back to Hogwarts. Following the attack at the start of the holidays, security had been tightened. At least six Aurors were stationed along the entire platform. Fortunately, the ordeal went smoothly without incident.

After dropping Mary off at the station, Harry fell into the routine of work once more. He would go in every day at nine o’clock, work any case that might pop up until six in the afternoon, and call it a day. Auror Evans and he stayed back for an hour two times a week to practice Harry’s animagus forms.

He was really getting the hang of it, actually. Barely three weeks after their first session, he could successfully change both his arms into stag’s legs. He hadn’t made much progress on the phoenix form, however. It seemed that he was getting stuck when picturing his arm changing, and could only feel the tingling of his magic. Auror Evans told him it was fine, though. Most people took around a year to complete a single transformation fully.

Harry was both relieved and unnerved when he noticed that the “Half-blood killers”, as they had dubbed them, had stopped their murder sprees. This only supported his suspicions that whoever was behind this had also been behind the attack on the Hogwarts Express. Since Mary’s injury, he had promised to catch those bastards and bring them to justice.

One month later, by mid-February, Harry was awoken by yet another nightmare involving the Department of Mysteries; only this time, it had changed once more. Before he could get into the corridor that led to the lifts, the lifeless body of the Death Eater he had killed loomed over him and denied him entry. _When would this stop?_ Harry thought ruefully.

Harry tried not to let his nightmares bother him as he woke up on February 14th. Rolling over, he stared into Ginny’s beautiful freckled face. The light winter sun was barely seeping through the curtains, casting beautiful bright streaks of gold and auburn on her hair that, if possible, accented her beauty even more. Okay, maybe he was a little biased, but he really did mean it.

He leaned in and gently shook her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Love, wake up.”

Ginny brushed him away and mumbled something unintelligible; something about five more minutes. Harry smiled and leaned on his elbow, clearing his throat before starting to mock-sing.

“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad; his hair is as black as a blackboard.” He heard Ginny audibly groan, but ploughed on, “He’s really divine, I wish he were mine. The hero who conquered the Dark Lo- ugh.”

 Ginny’s elbow had found Harry’s belly, and she rolled over so she was facing him, “Do you really need to rub that in my face?” she asked, rubbing the drowsiness off of her eyes.

“Of course. I might even sing it at our wedding,” he teased, earning a glare from the redhead.

“Don’t you dare, Potter.”

“Whatever you say, Weasley,” he conceded. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she replied, kissing his nose and getting up to get dressed.

They spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. As it was a Saturday they both had the day off, so they decided to visit Diagon Alley. They browsed a number of stores before retiring to muggle London, where Harry had booked a romantic candlelit dinner in a beautiful Italian restaurant. All in all, Harry was glad to have enjoyed such a peaceful day in these troubled times. Apparently, defeating the darkest wizard of all time didn’t ensure safety for all.

After their romantic day, Harry’s routine came back to bite him. Two very boring months went by in a flash. The only interesting thing to happen, according to Harry, was that he had finally been able to change his head to one of a stag’s. He had also been delighted to realise that he could change his right arm into a phoenix’s red and yellow wing. Evans commended him on his outstanding progress, which made him quite proud. Fortunately for him, those two months were also boring because the killings had somehow come to a halt.

Luckily for Harry, the 21st of April rolled around, and Teddy’s second birthday was upon them. The entire Weasley clan, plus a couple of friends of the Order were invited over to Potter Manor. By two in the afternoon, everyone was enjoying a pleasant day, eating and drinking off the platters Kreacher and Winky were serving the guests.

Hermione had frowned at Harry when she and Ron arrived and seen the elves at work, but Harry assured her that they were employees rather than slaves, which calmed her down. The guest of honour was having a blast playing with his honorary cousin Victoire. Teddy was learning new words constantly and had gotten into the habit of calling the one-year-old Veevee. They were quite close, as Molly would babysit little Victoire when her parents were at work, and Andromeda enjoyed spending time with the Weasley matriarch.

After some more refreshments, they all gathered around the main table to sing to Teddy. The cake was a delicious-looking tower covered in frosting, and it had a magical picture of Teddy on the top, turquoise hair flaring up at them. The real Teddy was now sporting jet black hair and bright green eyes from the comfort of his godfather’s arms. When he finally blew the candles, people took out their presents.

Teddy had the time of his life ripping open wrapping paper left and right, mostly revealing toys and other memorabilia of his parents. He didn’t know exactly what had happened to them yet, of course, but Harry wanted to make sure he never forgot them. He didn’t want to replace them, either, so he convinced Teddy to call him Uncle Harree for now.

The black-haired baby was ecstatic when he unwrapped Harry’s present and saw the toy broom hovering barely two feet off the ground. With the help of his godfather, Teddy climbed onto the broom and slowly drifted forwards, eventually crashing into a vase and breaking it. After a quick _Reparo_ Charm, Harry baby-proofed the small broom. The boy had inherited his mother’s clumsiness, through and through.

After that day, Harry and Ginny met with Molly more and more as the wedding approached. They had decided on August 7th for the date and were discussing the location. Molly was adamant that they get married at the Burrow, as it was a tradition. Harry had other plans, though.

“Molly, if you don’t mind, I was thinking maybe we could get married somewhere else,” said Harry, after the second argument.

“Where else would you have it, dear?” she asked incredulously.

“I’d like to have it at Hogwarts,” he said, “of course, I’d have to ask Minerva for approval, but she thinks she might be able to make a case for us to the Board of Governors.”

“Wow, Harry. You really thought this through,” Ginny said.

“Yeah, I did. I want this day to be extra special, and I think Hogwarts would make it even more so. Hogwarts was my first real home, and despite my adventures, I really enjoyed my time there,” he explained.

“I guess you’re right, dear,’ conceded Molly, not altogether convinced. “We’ll owl Minerva and let her know of your plans.”

Harry nodded and they set out to arrange everything for their big day. He still kept correspondence with Mary and was delighted to hear that no one treated her any different because of the attack. Another thing on his mind was the activity, or lack thereof, of the “half-blood killers”. Not so much as a peep had been heard of them since the attack on the train, which only helped to spike his suspicious through the roof. It unnerved him that they had stopped quite so abruptly, but he knew better. Something was going on; something much deeper.

He just hoped they’d be ready this time.


	25. Chapter 25

Around late May, Mary sat at her desk inside her trunk, which she thought still sounded quite strange to say aloud. She was adding the final details to yet another essay she had to write for Slughorn. She had decided long ago that he was likeable, but he did seem to favour some students over others. Mary was a good example of that.

Her good grades and the fact that she was Harry Potter’s ward were too irresistible for Slughorn to pass up. Not even a week of the term had passed and Slughorn had already invited her into the Slug Club. Of course, she said no. Harry had told her about the elderly professor’s tendency to ‘collect’ students. Mary thought that was the reason he was so adamant in giving them endless essays on the uses of moonstones and Occamy eggs in potion making. One thing she’d learned about her professor is that he doesn’t take rejection too mildly.

As she finished, she let it dry and made her way out of the trunk and into the dormitory. When she climbed out, Annie lifted her gaze off the issue of Witch Weekly she was reading and smiled at her best friend.

“Hey, Mary,” she greeted her.

“Hey, Ann,” replied Mary, plopping herself on the bed. She was exhausted, she realised.

“I’m still not used to you just walking into and out of your trunk, you know?” said Annie from her own bed.

“I told you, you can use it whenever you want. You already know where I keep the keys,” Mary reminded her.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s kind of weird. I guess being muggleborn, I’m still not used to that kind of thing.”

Annabeth Laverne was medium height, with curly black hair and fair skin that seemed to glow when the light hit it just right. She wore glasses but, unlike Mary’s, they were square shaped and seemed to fit her face perfectly. They had become almost instant friends on their first week at Hogwarts. She was almost as studious as Mary, and took pride in being muggleborn; something that made Hermione proud when Mary told her about Annie. Heaving a sigh, Mary made her way to the door and looked back at her friend.

“I think I’ll go for a walk. See you later,” she said, running down the stairs into the common room.

She walked aimlessly around the castle, often talking to one portrait or the other. That was something else Mary had a habit of doing, and the people in the portraits were most pleased to be addressed by a student. She was walking down a corridor on the seventh floor when she spotted her guardian exiting the Headmistress’s office with a big smile.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did I, little one,” he told her, kissing her forehead and kneeling to her level. “I came by to ask Minerva a question.”

“Oh, are you two finally getting married?” she teased.

Harry chuckled and gently tousled her hair. “No, silly. I asked her if Ginny and I could have our wedding here at Hogwarts,” he explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Harry!” she said, hugging him again.

“It is, and she said she’d do whatever necessary to convince the Board of Governors to let us do it.”

“I really don’t think they can deny you, Harry, after what you’ve done,” she reminded him.

“I was hoping they would remember some of it, yes,” he admitted with a lopsided grin.

“Are you staying longer, then?” she asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately no, little one,” replied Harry. Mary’s face fell, “I have to go run a couple of errands concerning the wedding. It is much more work than I had anticipated.”

“Imagine how it’ll be when I get married,” she mused dreamily.

Harry paled and looked down at his ward, “Hopefully that won’t be for a long time, okay?” he said, all fatherly.

“Of course, Harry.” Mary kissed his cheek and, after exchanging another hug, bounded off to her dormitory.

After his chance encounter with Mary, Harry walked back through the corridors and down the grounds, where he made his way through Hogsmeade. Since it was a school day, not as many people milled the streets. A few of them gave him curt nods, but mostly let him go about his business. He walked into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and greeted his best friend.

“Hey, Ron,” he said.

“Harry! I didn’t know you’d be dropping by,” said Ron. He shook his hand and beckoned him to follow him through the back door into his little apartment.

“I had to go ask McGonagall a question so I figured I’d stop by,” he explained, “We haven’t properly talked in some time.”

“You’re right, mate. It’s been long.”

“So how is living alone treating you?’ asked Harry, looking around the place. It was modest enough, though it was clearly a step up from Ron’s old room.

“Very well, Harry. Although Hermione comes by very often, so I’m not totally alone,” said Ron, sitting on the edge of his bed. Harry conjured a kettle to start making tea.

“So when are you guys moving in together?” Harry asked while he stirred the contents of his cup.

“We’ve talked about that, actually.” He saw his friend smile and lean back on his bed. “Maybe after your wedding,” Ron told him.

“That’s brilliant, mate, congratulations.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

“I actually came by for another reason,” said Harry, scratching the back of his head.

“Anything, mate. What is it?” Ron said immediately. Harry placed his teacup on the little bedside table and clapped his hands together.

“I was wondering if you’d like to be my best man.”

Ron sat silent for a minute, staring at Harry in amazement. He found his voice finally and said, “Wow, you-really?”

“Really, Ron. You’re my best mate,” said Harry, “You were my _first_ friend, and I’d love for you to be up there with me. Plus, Ginny’s asking Hermione, but don’t tell her I said that,” Harry told him with a wink. Ron laughed and shook his best friend’s hand.

“Thanks, mate, it really means a lot,” Ron said.

“No problem.” Harry looked around and spotted a small dusty case beside the window. “So, how about we break out the old set and play some wizard’s chess?”

“You sure you want to take that chance again, mate?” teased Ron

“I don’t know about that,” said Harry, shrugging as the redhead took out the case and opened the board on a small table. “Ginny says I’ve been getting better recently.”

“You haven’t played me recently,” Ron reminded him.

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, “Just shut up and move your piece.”

What followed were three intense matches between the two wizards, in which Ron always came out victorious. Admitting gracious defeat, Harry suggested chatting about their lives would be a much more pleasant way to spend their remaining time. They talked about nothing in particular as their tea got cold and evening drew closer.

Four weeks passed in which Harry and Abby’s case of the “Half-blood killers” became quite cold. They had allegedly stopped their attacks, and Harry and Abby were forced to work minor cases, which had them bored out of their minds. Luckily for Harry, he would be picking Mary up at King’s Cross Station soon, and he was just as excited as Mary.

So, three days later, Harry stood at Platform 9¾ along with Ginny to greet their ward after her second year at Hogwarts. While they waited they noticed many people staring at them, and they even caught a glimpse of a photo being taken just before the train started drawing to a stop. Harry didn’t give it much thought as they looked over people’s heads in search of Mary.

They waited for barely five minutes before a diminutive figure bounded its way towards the couple. Mary was carrying her trusty trunk in one hand and Armand’s cage in the other. She had gotten very close with the tiny owl, Harry noticed.

Mary gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and the three of them left the platform as quickly as possible so as to not draw the attention of reporters. When they got to the house, Mary settled her trunk in her room and opened Armand’s cage so he could fly around at will. That evening, they were having dinner in the dining room and talking about Mary’s term.

“So who won the House Cup this year?” Ginny asked in passing.

“Ravenclaw, of course,” Mary announced proudly.

“That’s great, little one,” said Harry, taking a sip of his soup.

“How are the wedding preparations coming along?” asked Mary excitedly. Ginny had asked her to be the flower girl earlier, and she wanted to know everything about it.

“We’re doing great, sweetheart,” said Ginny, “We’ve already arranged almost everything, and we couldn’t be happier,” she added, taking Harry’s hand in hers.

“Hey, little one, you didn’t happen to tell your friends about the date and place of our wedding, right?” asked Harry.

“No, only Annie, my best friend. I figured she wouldn’t tell anyone,” she told them, to which they nodded.

“Good. We wouldn’t like for the entire wizarding world to barge into our wedding,” said Ginny, only half-joking.

“I understand. It has to be hard being the most famous couple in our world,” Mary said with a grin.

Harry made a show of rolling his eyes. “It is, actually,” he said exasperatedly.

Both women laughed at Harry as they continued to have their dinner and talk more about the details of the wedding to come. Ginny didn’t want to spoil many details, but she shared with Mary everything she could. After about thirty minutes, Harry excused himself to go into his study, where he usually practiced his Animagus transformation.

By now, he could turn all four main body parts into those of a stag’s: right arm, left arm, head, and torso. The only thing missing was a full transformation, which included his legs. The phoenix form he was having a little more trouble with. At this point in time, he could only change his arms into beautiful red and gold wings, yet his head and torso proved to be a much bigger challenge. He kept getting frustrated because of it.

He stood in the middle of the room, being careful to move all furniture to the sides, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the magic flowing through his veins, picturing it as water flowing through a pipe. Releasing what he hoped was just the right amount of magic through his entire body, he pictured himself as a great black stag with brown markings around its eyes and a white line on its forehead.

After a few futile attempts, he huffed in annoyance. It should be easier than this, shouldn’t it? Though he thought he couldn’t really complain about his progress. Auror Evans had said that it takes seasoned Aurors over a year to perfect an Animagus transformation, let alone work on two of them at a time. Slowly, he raised his arms at shoulder-level and closed his eyes. Again, the energy flowed freely through his arms, his body, his soul. _I’m not Harry Potter, for now_ , he told himself. _I’m a black stag._

And indeed, he was.

In a few seconds, he was looking at the wall in front of him from a whole new perspective. He felt taller and stronger somehow. He turned to look himself in the mirror by the other wall; instead, he wasn’t really himself anymore. Where he once stood, a great stag with jet black fur was looking back at him with hazel eyes.

He could see the brown markings around those eyes, and the faint lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He tapped his hoof loudly on the wooden floor and waited in silence. Mere seconds later, Ginny and Mary appeared in the entrance to his study, staring flabbergasted at the creature in front of them.

“Wow! Harry, is that you?” exclaimed Mary excitedly, almost jumping on the balls of her feet.

Seeing as he couldn’t talk while he was a stag, Harry chose to nod vigorously and bow his head towards them.

“That’s incredible, love,” said Ginny with a proud smile on her face. “Can you change back?” she asked after a moment’s thought. _Good question_ , Harry thought.

He closed his hazel eyes and concentrated on his green-eyed human form, with the real lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and round glasses on the bridge of his nose. After two minutes of intense concentration, he was finally looking at them from his normal height. Mary was the first to react, and she promptly launched herself at her guardian, embracing him in a big hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Harry!” she told him. Ginny smiled at her fiancé from over Mary’s head. For the next two hours, Harry entertained Mary by changing into a stag and letting her ride on top of him in the garden outside. He also attempted to further practice on his transformation of the phoenix, but barely got a tingling sensation in his head.

The next day, Harry showed his progress to Auror Evans, who was thoroughly impressed.

“This is unbelievable, Harry,” she told him once he showed her he could turn into a stag and back in less than ten seconds.

“Thank you, Evans.”

“Call me Ellie, Harry,” she told him, “Now you can register it at the Animagus Regulation Office.”

“I will. Do you mind if we keep practicing on my phoenix form, though?” he asked her.

“Of course, show me how you’re doing with it.”

Harry nodded and stood in the middle of the room. He closed his eyes and once again concentrated on his magic. He hoped this transformation was that much harder for being a magical creature and nothing more. The magic in his veins kept flowing through his body and he directed it into his head, picturing a majestic phoenix’s head in its place.

After a few demonstrations, he was finally able to change his head into a phoenix’s. It sported his own bright green eyes, and the feathers matched the red and gold ones on his wings. He changed back into himself and spent the better part of an hour trying to change his torso into that of a phoenix. Sadly, again, he could only feel a tingling.

“That’s still very impressive, Harry, don’t worry about it,” Ellie assured him.

Later that day, he walked into the Animagus Regulation Office to register his stag form. The examiner had him change into it as fast as he could, and he had to fill out a form promising to transform into his animagus form responsibly. He didn’t know exactly what that could mean, but he filled it anyway.

The month of July was passing painfully slowly for Harry and Ginny, who were occupying most of their free time on wedding plans. Molly was a great help with that, they agreed, and she was more than happy to help plan her only daughter’s wedding. She hadn’t put up much of a fight against Harry’s idea of getting married at Hogwarts but still wasn’t thrilled about it.

Days stretched into weeks, and sooner than they thought possible, Harry’s twentieth birthday was upon them. The couple had agreed that this year, both of their birthday celebrations would be much more subdued, as their wedding was much more important. And so, on the afternoon of the 31st, Harry was surrounded by the Weasley children with their significant others, Mary, Andromeda, and Teddy.

As usual, the redheaded family didn’t indulge Harry’s desire to not receive gifts; though he actually enjoyed opening them. From Bill, Fleur, and Victoire he got two tomes on Animagus transformation and its advances through the ages. Hopefully, this could help him master the phoenix form quicker, he thought.

From George, he got a nice batch of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Ron and Hermione gave him three new novels by Harry’s favourite authors and a nice assortment of sweets and chocolates. Three more guesses as to who picked which gift. Next, it was Charlie, who got him a brand new set of dragonhide gloves. Apparently, they were magically resistant to any temperature and would repel dirt and blood. Harry hoped he would never have to test the latter.

Arthur and Molly gave him a brand new red jumper with a black stag on the front. He noticed that it even had the markings of his animagus form around its face, and thanked them profusely. Andromeda produced a framed photo from her coat.

“I found this among Remus’ things when I was looking around Dora’s flat,” she explained, “I think you should have it.”

Harry took it and looked at the picture inside. In it he saw a nineteen-year-old James in a tux at an altar, looking lovingly at a beautiful redhead in a wedding dress. Lily’s green eyes were likewise fixed on her new husband’s hazel ones, and they were both grinning like madmen. To James’ right was a much younger Sirius in a similar tux to his best friend’s, only this one had a sizeable boutonnière on its lapel. Harry figured Sirius thought it was stylish. It wasn’t.

Beside Sirius, Remus stood tall in his shabby-looking beige suit. His face was covered in the looked to be scars, and Harry sighed. _It must have been a full moon_ , he thought ruefully. Standing next to Remus, looking almost as dishevelled, was Peter Pettigrew. Harry felt a surge of anger as he saw the mousy-haired man fidgeting with his fingers awkwardly. He decided to make himself look away and found someone else he knew.

To his mum’s left was a woman he recognized from St. Mungo’s, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Watching the exchange of the bride and groom was a twenty-one-year-old Alice Longbottom in a beautiful pale gold dress. Harry looked back at his parents, who were now sharing a passionate kiss thanks to the magic properties of the photograph. Sirius was wolf-whistling and cheering them on. _They looked happy_ , Harry thought.

He looked up at Andromeda with tears in his eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Andromeda. This is amazing,” he said.

“Look at the back,” she advised him.

He did as she said and turned the frame around. In a corner of the paper was a note in what he assumed was his mother’s handwriting. It was much too neat to belong to a Potter.

_August 10 th, 1979, the happiest day of our lives._

Right below this statement was a much untidier scrawl written with a muggle pen.

_Give to Harry when he gets married..._

He flipped the frame once more and saw his parents holding hands, looking back at him with smiles on their faces and hope in their hearts. If only they had known...

Harry thanked Andromeda once more before turning to Mary, who was holding a wrapped gift in her hands. It was roughly the size of the frame in his own hand. Ginny stood beside the diminutive witch and together they handed Harry his final present.

It was a beautiful oil painting of Potter Manor as viewed from the start of the gravel path at the edge of the tree line. On the front porch, Harry and Ginny sat on the bench, holding hands and looking far off into the distance; not a care in the world. On the bottom-left corner was Mary’s signature in neat calligraphy.

“Thank you, little one, it’s amazing,” he said, hugging his ward tightly.

“It’s more than that, Harry. See how it’s very sunny here?” she pointed at the painting, “The weather changes with the change of the seasons. Ginny helped me with that.”

Harry looked up at his fiancée and smiled, getting up to kiss her deeply. Both Ron and George made gagging noises and got subsequently hit on the head by Hermione and Angelina respectively. Harry could only laugh at his friends’ antics.

Later that night, Harry was practically kidnapped by the Weasley men, minus Arthur. They took him to the Leaky Cauldron, which looked uncharacteristically empty.

“We booked the whole place for the night. Tom was quite nice about it,” Charlie explained, reading Harry’s confused look.

“What exactly for?” asked Harry wearily.

“It’s your bachelor’s party, of course,” Ron piped in as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think –,” he said before being cut off.

“I do think,” Bill said with a wink. Harry noticed he had small bags under his eyes, yet his smile never wavered.

“When did you all plan this?” Harry asked, while Charlie and Bill made him sit around a round table, which was filling with firewhisky bottles.

“While you and Ginny planned your actual wedding,” Percy said this time.

Harry couldn’t even complain as the Weasley’s eased a couple of drinks down his throat, which burned like hell. Before he even noticed, the group was joined by Neville, Seamus, and Dean. Harry figured this party didn’t have much of a point, other than getting piss-faced drunk and enjoy background music as they shared stories of their significant others and how much they loved them.

No one was really surprised when Dean and Seamus told them they were now officially a couple, and that only gave them an excuse to toast once more with more alcohol. By the fourth drink, Harry had forgotten that he hated the taste of it.

They drank for most of the night, and by the time they got to their respective homes, Harry felt like crap. He was ever thankful that today was Saturday, as he didn’t feel like he could move for the following ten hours. Indeed, he slept through most of the day.

After that big send-off into married life, days loomed ever closer until the morning of August 7th dawned slowly, and Harry felt couldn’t have felt better. It was finally time.

It was time to get married.


	26. Chapter 26

Harry was woken by the summer sun caressing his face as the day of his wedding dawned. He rubbed the drowsiness off his face and sat up to get a good look at his surroundings. They had agreed that Harry and his groomsmen would stay the night at the Gryffindor dormitories, while Ginny and her bridesmaids would ride in on the Hogwarts Express, which was making an exception for the Boy Who Lived.

He didn’t like to use the ‘saviour-of-the-world’ card often, but he was hell-bent on making this day as special and unique as he could. He put on his glasses and ran his hands through his messy hair. He cursed his father for passing on this rat’s nest he called hair onto him. Getting up was easy, though the shaking didn’t help. He wouldn’t lie, he was extremely nervous.

Ron stirred in his sleep from the bed beside him, a line of drool oozing from the corner of his mouth. Harry had an idea. With a silent levitation charm, Ron hovered out of his bed and started floating limply towards the sleeping form of Neville. When he was right above the sleeping man, Harry dropped Ron onto him and they both woke with a start.

“What the-?” Ron blurted out, before looking around and spotting a smug looking Harry. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist pulling something like this,” he said, getting out of Neville’s bed and standing up.

“Way to start your wedding day, huh?” said Neville, stretching in his bed. Both men rubbed their eyes and blinked.

“The best,” said Harry, “Now, get a move on, the girls will be here in less than four hours.”

With that, the three of them set out to prepare themselves. Harry was the first to shower, and he accepted the cold water much like a cup of coffee, waking him up fully for the day ahead. After that, he gingerly put on his tux so as to not wrinkle it in the process. It was jet black, with a white shirt and a bowtie to complement it. Hermione and Molly had given him the seal of approval on it, of course.

There, he waited for his two friends to get ready so the three of them could go finish the last minute preparations before the bride arrived. When they entered the Great Hall, Harry gasped at the sight in front of him. The house tables had been removed and replaced by rows of red chairs facing the front of the Hall. In the middle was an aisle covered in a golden cloth, which led to the altar.

The altar was adorned first and foremost by a simple red and gold arch, woven from strands of linen by magic, courtesy of Professor Flitwick. A podium with an intricate pattern stood in the middle, an ornate looking book hovering over it. This was for the Minerva, who had agreed to officiate the ceremony. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, she was authorized by the Ministry of Magic to perform weddings. She considered this their wedding gift, she had said.

Around the room were round lanterns glowing with the colours of Gryffindor House, which was the chosen colour scheme for the entire wedding. Scores of lanterns hovered just above head-level, casting an orange glow upon most of the furniture. Harry, Neville, and the Weasleys set out to help out in any way they could to finish arranging the place.

Meanwhile, bounding its way down the Scottish Highlands, the Hogwarts Express was filled by Ginny, her bridesmaids, Mary, and Molly. She had chosen Hermione as her Maid of Honour, who had accepted it with glee. For her bridesmaids, she had chosen Luna, Fleur, Angelina, and Tracy, a fellow Chaser at the Holyhead Harpies. They had become quite close over the past year, and could safely say Tracy was her best friend among the team.

As they had less than three hours left until they got to Hogsmeade, all the women were stationed to prepare Ginny for her big day. While Fleur and Angelina helped her with her makeup, Tracy and Hermione did her hair. She didn’t like having to ask them for help, but she was willing to compromise for this day only. She wanted to look her best for her future husband.

“Are you nervous, Ginny?” asked Mary, who was sitting across from her as the others worked on her hair and face. She was busying herself by sketching a drawing of Ginny and Harry from memory. It was actually turning out to be an amazing piece of work.

“A little, sweetheart. But I know this will be perfect, so I’m not too worried,” she told her.

“I can’t wait to see Harry’s face when he sees you,” said Mary giggling.

‘He didn’t die two years ago, but today he might drop dead,” said Angelina, which got a laugh from everyone but Molly, who frowned slightly from her place beside Mary.

They kept bantering as they worked on Ginny until they were confident she was looking her very best. After this, they started on each other. The bridesmaids’ dresses were pale pink, with a classy cleavage and cut diagonally across the waist, ending just over the left knee. Mary’s dress was much like that one, only more modest on account of her age.

Hermione’s Maid of Honour dress, however, resembled the one she wore for the Yule Ball back in her fourth year. Leaving her back bare, it was layered along the waist; a bright periwinkle-blue to contrast the pink of the bridesmaids. Another difference was the small white rose she had blossoming on the left strap. She looked stunning, Ginny thought.

By the time they got to Hogsmeade Station, they were all ready. Ginny, of course, wasn’t wearing her wedding dress, as she would put it on once she was inside. When they reached the school gates, they were greeted be McGonagall, who was wearing a lime cloak complemented by her pointed green hat.

“Welcome, all of you. I hope you had a pleasant ride,” she said, uncharacteristically warm.

“We did, Minerva, thank you,” said Molly, giving the Headmistress a big hug, which was returned in kind by the taller woman.

They all followed her up the grounds toward the castle, which was alive with activity in preparation for the day. Ginny only got a glimpse of what the Great Hall looked like as they walked past it and down the corridor to McGonagall’s office. It had been transfigured, probably by its owner, to hold a mirror, duvet and enough room for all of them to keep working on the bride.

“Good luck, Ginny,” Minerva said before she disappeared through the door and left them all to their devices.

By this point, less than an hour until the ceremony started, Harry and his groomsmen were huddled in the room behind the staff table. The same room Harry had entered in his fourth year after being named the fourth Tri-wizard Champion. He thought about how much dread had filled him that night, and how much happiness was filling him now, almost five years later.

He paced the room nervously waiting for the time to come out while running his hands through his hair. To pass the time, he was trying every spell he could think of to tame that rat’s nest, and so far it wasn’t working. After twenty minutes, he received a visitor. Arthur Weasley walked through the door and gestured for his children to leave the room. Everyone, including Neville, obeyed.

Arthur pointed at one of the chairs for Harry to sit on and sat on the one opposite that one. He smiled at the young man to ease his nervousness and said what he had come here to say.

“Harry, I wanted to wish you the best of luck today,” he said simply.

“Thank you, Arthur. You have no idea how much that means coming from you,” replied Harry, a small weight lifted from his chest. “I just hope I can do this without collapsing.”

“You have nothing to worry about, son,” the older man said, “You’ll do great. If you can defeat Voldemort, this should be a piece of cake.”

Harry laughed despite himself and nodded. Arthur was right; he was ready for this.

“I’d like to tell you a story, Harry, which I hope you won’t tell Ginny about,” said Arthur, leaning in. Harry nodded seriously and leaned in too.

“When Ginny was little, maybe four or five, she was scared of the dark,” he started, “Of course, she wouldn’t say it out loud, being as proud as she is, but she was. So, every night, I would go into her room and read her stories. Some from ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’, some made up by me. She loved them, of course, but the one she loved the most was the most recent of all. She wanted to hear the story of you.”

“Me?” asked Harry confused.

“Yes, Harry, you. Of course, she didn’t know the first thing about you as a child, but she loved to hear about the baby who defeated Lord Voldemort when no one else could. She wanted to hear the story of The Boy Who Lived,” Arthur said with a smile.

“And so, almost every night, I told her your story. Of how your parents sacrificed themselves for you. How you were left at the mercy of the darkest wizard of all time. How you defeated him against all odds. She would always mention how brave you would be once you grew up; which ended up being true. Another thing she would say was that she would someday marry the Boy Who Lived.”

Harry chuckled and smiled at Arthur. “She got that right too, then.”

“Yes, she did. Who would have thought? Anyway, I would tell her that was a possibility, that she would be a beautiful bright witch and that he would love her unconditionally.” He stopped to wipe a few tears from his eyes before continuing, “She was my Princess, Harry. She still is my Princess.”

Harry sat silent as he heard him tell his story, and felt a wave of increased respect for Arthur Weasley.

“I still remember the day she was born. We already had six boys running around the Burrow, and we were blessed by a beautiful girl. It was my one wish when I was young. I wanted a baby girl to spoil and to love. I loved her from the day she came to this world, more than I could even describe. As I watched her grow up, my love only increased; and when she showed signs of magic, I was over the moon.”

“I’m sure you were,” said Harry with a small smile.

“And then she came home after Molly dropped the boys off at the station one day and told me all about how they had met the Boy Who Lived in person. I couldn’t believe it, but Molly assured me it was you. She became sort of obsessed after that, pestering her brothers about what you were like. I thought it was cute. And then you came along on that summer.”

“I remember that. She was extremely shy around me, and wouldn’t say more than two words to me.”

“Indeed, she had a big crush on you. I had never seen her be shy about anything, much less her emotions, but you were different. I realised at that point that you were a special young man. So humble and polite despite your upbringing. But then, Ginny’s first year happened. Albus told us about it, and when we came into his office and saw you holding her as she cried. I think that’s about the time she started forgetting her crush and started to fall in love with you.”

“As the years passed, Molly and I saw you grow as our own son and saw with horror the things you went through. We also saw how each year would affect Ginny. I wanted to protect her at all costs; but I had to realise that after the Chamber incident, she had grown far beyond her age.”

“I’m sure by now you’re wondering why I’m telling you all of this, Harry,” said Arthur finally with a grin.

“I’m not quite sure, sir,” admitted Harry.

“The point I’m trying to make, Harry, is that I want you to realise something. I know you love her very much, but I want you to know that I loved her first,” Arthur told him, somehow seemingly embarrassed to voice his thought. Harry smiled at the man and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Of course, Arthur. I love your daughter with all my heart, but I also know she loves you just as much. She admires you, maybe more than you realise,” Harry said, “You don’t ever have to worry about me replacing you.’

“I’m not worried. I just wanted to tell you that,” said Arthur, clapping Harry on the shoulder, “Now let’s go get you married.”

Before they stood up, Harry tried for the last time to tame his hair with his wand. To his great surprise, it gave way a little. In a few seconds, his usually messy hair was lying flat on his head. He smiled proudly at Arthur and followed him out of the office. In the Great Hall, most of the guests were already seated, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Harry stood proudly at the front of the altar, smiling at a number of people in the crowd.

Arthur made his way to McGonagall’s office, where he knew Ginny and the girls would be. With a knock, he was welcomed inside by a fully dressed Ginny. Her father’s eyes watered at the sight and she reached forward to embrace him.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” he told her.

“Thank you, Dad,” she replied, trying as hard as she could not to cry and spoil her makeup.

“I just came from speaking to Harry, and he’s all ready for you,” he said, winking at Ginny.

“Thanks, Dad. I want you to know I love you very much, I know how hard this must be for you,’ she told him, taking his hands in hers.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, his eyes teary beneath his glasses. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek

He returned the gesture and led the rest of the bridesmaids to the entrance of the Great Hall for the ceremony to begin. Once the music started and the doors opened, the first to enter were Ron and Hermione, their arms linked. They walked down the aisle and took their places beside the groom. Ron clapped him one last time on the shoulder and wished him luck.

Next were Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina, Charlie and Tracy, and Neville and Luna. They all had similar smiles on their faces as they too took their places at the altar. Following the groomsmen and bridesmaids was Mary, walking with a basket full of flowers and sprinkling them over the gold cloth. Harry thought she looked beautiful as she took her place at the front row. Mary gave him a thumbs up and mouthed, “Good luck.”

After this, the music morphed into the wedding march and the doors opened once more. At this point, every single person in the room vanished in Harry’s eyes. They were completely fixed on the redhead walking down the aisle with her father. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, and he had to remind himself to keep breathing, lest he faint.

Ginny was wearing a simple eggshell-white wedding dress. It was strapless, bare-backed and accented her body in all the right places. Her hair was up in a beautiful braid, rogue strands of bright red hair cascading down her shoulders. Harry saw that she was smiling broadly, and thought that he must look exactly like that at the moment. When they got to the altar, Arthur kissed his daughter’s cheek and took his place at the front row next to Molly.

Harry and Ginny looked deeply at each other and smiled once more.

“Hi,” said Ginny.

“Hey,” he replied, “I finally tamed it,” he whispered, pointing at his flat hair. Ginny surveyed it for a moment before shaking her head and tousling Harry’s hair profusely. It was, if possible, even messier than before.

“I like it better that way, actually,” she whispered back.

Minerva smiled broadly at each of them before she started the ceremony.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in matrimony,” she started, “I have known Harry and Ginny for a long time now, and I can safely say I know no other two people more suited for each other. They have both faced more adversities in their lives than they should have at their age and prevailed. Seeing you two taking this step together fills me with immense joy, and I would like to extend my deepest love for both of you.”

They both smiled at the elderly woman, who continued, “We may now proceed to the vows. I believe Harry and Ginny have prepared their own?” she said, to which the couple nodded. Hermione stepped forward and handed Ginny her vows. She stood straight and cleared her throat to begin.

“Harry, I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was little and my father would tell me all about the story of the Boy Who Lived. I used to think you were extraordinary; a force to be reckoned with. But ever since my first year, I realised how wrong I was. You are so much more than that. You are kind, and humble, and smart, and loving. You risked your life to save a silly girl you barely knew from a basilisk, and almost died in the process. I know now that I have grown past my celebrity crush, and I am proud to say I have fallen in love with the great man behind the legend. The Boy Who Lived Twice, the hero who vanquished the Dark Lord.” Harry chuckled softly, and she continued, “I love you more than I could ever imagine, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”

There was a round of applause as everyone took in Ginny’s words. A couple of people were dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, and the clapping subsided as Harry cleared his throat. Ron stepped forward to hand Harry his notes, but he waved them away. With a frown, Ron nodded curtly and took his place back beside his brothers.

“Ginny, growing up I didn’t think I would ever amount to anything. Never in ten years did I think I would be so lucky as to have found you. I was raised to think I was worthless. That every little problem could be attributed to my existence. I can’t express how very grateful I am that you, along with the rest of your family, have chased those thoughts away from my mind. You, Ginny, make me feel like I’m worth something. You are my anchor, my rock, my everything. I used to see my future as a certain thing. My destiny was always, from before I was even born, to fight Voldemort. He was my past, my present, and my future. Now I can gladly say someone else has taken that position for the better. You have given me a purpose for a life I never thought I would get to live, and I am forever grateful. I can’t wait to spend my life with you, Ginny Weasley.”

After Harry’s vows, almost everyone in the room was either holding back tears or letting them flow freely. Harry heard Hagrid’s trumpet-like sniffles from somewhere in the back and chuckled softly. Even Ginny had to try very hard not to tear up at Harry’s words, and she could only smile at him in response. Minerva composed herself and continued with the ceremony,

“Let’s move on to the rings,” she announced. At that moment, Teddy waddled his way to the couple in a small tuxedo. He was holding the pillow with the two rings, and when he reached them he lifted it over his head. His hair was now a mixture of fiery red and jet black, and he had one green eye and one brown one. Harry tousled his mismatched hair, and Teddy walked back to his grandmother with a grin on his face, not altogether sure of the significance of the moment.

“Harry James Potter, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health until death do you part?” said Minerva.

Harry looked deeply into the chocolate eyes that could turn his legs to jelly in a second and cleared his throat, “I do.” He placed the ring on her finger. It had the inscription _‘Always’_ on it.

“And you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health until death do you part?” she asked Ginny.

“I do,” she declared, placing the ring on Harry’s finger. This one had the inscription _“Forever”_ on it.

“So, by the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now declare you husband and wife,” she said.

“You may kiss my sister!’ announced George, earning a laugh from everyone in the Hall and a glare from Molly. Harry had no objections and captured his wife’s lips in his. She returned in kind, and they were engulfed by the sound of applause filling the Great Hall.

Somehow, Harry found a way to drown out the applause, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. He was married, he realised with glee. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was Ginny and him, too enthralled in each other to pay attention to much else. For lack of a better word, it was magical.

Later, the chairs had been replaced by round red-and-gold tables and a dance floor, much like it had been on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. As the people took their seats, the music swelled, and Harry and Ginny walked up to the dance floor to enjoy their first dance as husband and wife.

 _‘More than words’_ by Extreme started playing. Harry took Ginny’s hand and led her into a slow dance. Every single eye was on them, but they only had eyes for each other. Harry wondered just how it was that he had been so lucky.

“You look beautiful, Mrs. Potter,” he told her with a big smile.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Potter.” She couldn’t help but smile broadly.

At one point, Arthur stepped in and tapped Harry on the shoulder, “Mind if I steal your wife for a moment?”

“Of course, Arthur,” said Harry, stepping back.

“I am no one’s to steal from, thank you very much,” Ginny told her father with a grin as they danced. When the song ended, Harry resumed his place beside his wife and swayed to the slow beat of the music.

She laid her head on Harry’s shoulder, and let the rhythm of the music lead them. Soon enough, more couples joined them on the dance floor, and the music started shifting to a livelier tune. Twenty minutes and one very upbeat song later, Harry led Ginny to the main table to rest for a moment. Her feet ached, but her heart was swelling with emotion.

Harry kissed his wife and started walking around the tables, visiting with various guests. The first people he greeted were Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who were sitting at their table and making small talk.

“Hey guys, how are you enjoying the wedding?” he said as he sat down on a spare chair.

“Brilliant, mate. Congratulations, by the way,” said Seamus. Harry noticed his hand was in Dean’s and smiled.

“Thanks, Seamus. And I forgot to properly congratulate you two last time we saw each other,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Thank you, Harry. We took even longer than Hermione and Ron over there. Can you imagine?” said Dean. They all laughed and, after a few minutes, Harry left their table and went back to circling the room. He greeted most of them quickly and stayed to talk with a few of them until he came to the Weasley table. He sat down and smiled at the redheaded family.

“Guess I’m finally part of the family,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Nonsense, dear, you’ve always been a part of the family,” said Molly, patting his arm gently.

“Thank you, Molly,” he replied, taking her hand in his.

“I think you should return to your wife, Harry. She’s getting impatient,” said George, pointing behind Harry.

Indeed, when Harry turned, he saw Ginny waiting for him with a big smile on his face on the edge of the dance floor. He indulged her, and they danced for another fifteen minutes. When the music subsided, everyone took their seats, and the feast began. The food was courtesy of the house-elves of Hogwarts, who were more than happy to cook for the “great Harry Potter, sir’”

After the meal, Ron stood up from the main table and used a Sonorus charm on himself. He cleared his throat and called everyone’s attention to himself. Raisin his glass slightly, he smiled at the couple.

“Well, it’s best man speech time, I guess,” he started, “Bear with me; I’m not good with words, so Hermione helped me quite a bit.” Almost everyone laughed, and that relaxed him, “When I first met Harry, he was a scared kid with no knowledge of our world and no family of his own. Obviously, we became instant friends. I wanted to be friends with him, not because he was the Chosen One, but because he was genuinely cool to be around.”

“This marriage is doubly special for me, as well. Not only is the groom my best mate,” he gestured to Harry, who smiled at Ron, “but the bride is my little sister. And I can’t think of any two people more perfect for each other. To the Potters!” he cheered, raising his glass over his head. Everyone did the same, and they toasted to Harry and Ginny.

After this, Hermione stood up and magically raised her voice, “Hello. To those that don’t know me, I’m Hermione Granger. I have a lot of things to say about Harry and Ginny, but I think fewer words will describe them much better. They have both been my best friends, along with Ron here, for a long time. I have known them apart and I have known them together, and I can honestly say that they belong together. Seeing two of my best friends this happy reminds me that joy can still be found in the world we live in, and for that, I am truly grateful. To Harry and Ginny!” she raised her glass, and everyone followed suit.

After a couple of speeches from members of the family, Harry finally stood up. Everyone looked at him in expectation, and he cleared his throat, wandlessly enhancing his voice.

“I would first like to thank a few people. First, to all of you for attending this very special day and sharing it with us. Second, to Ron and Hermione, my two best friends in the whole world. I would not have lived long enough without the two of you, and I thank you for your unconditional support, even when supporting me was a matter of life and death, literally. Next, I want to thank the Weasleys, who have been the family I never had growing up since I was eleven. You guys picked me up from the ashes and helped me in the healing process; before and after the war.”

“Lastly, I thank my beautiful bride, Ginny Potter,” he gestured to a blushing Ginny, “you stuck through all my shenanigans, even when I broke up with you for what you called “stupid noble reasons”. You never gave up on me, and I never gave up on you. I never intend to, ever.” Once more, everyone raised their glasses and the final toast was over.

Later, as guests were making their way to the gates, where they could Apparate home, Harry and Ginny were saying goodbye to their family.

“Have fun on your honeymoon, guys,” Hermione told them as she embraced Harry, “Take lots of pictures, too.”

“We will, ‘Mione,” promised Harry. They would be spending two weeks travelling all over Europe. Their main destinations were Spain, France, Germany, Greece, and Italy, and they would be spending two to three days in each. Harry had pulled all the stops when planning their honeymoon, Ginny thought. He even promised her that they could make the first and the final trips by muggle plane, as she had never ridden one. To say the least, she was super excited.

With a final goodbye to the entire Weasley clan, they rounded on Mary. She was frowning slightly, and Harry smiled at her.

“Hey, it’s only for two weeks. And you’ll be at Grandma Molly’s the whole time,” he assured her.

“I know, but I’ll miss you guys,” she said.

“We’ll miss you too, sweetheart,” said Ginny from over Harry’s shoulder, taking her husband’s hand in hers.

They both hugged their ward and walked down to the gates with their luggage safely stowed in their pockets. Harry presented his right arm to Ginny and nodded.

“Ready Mrs. Potter?” he asked her.

“I was born ready, Mr. Potter,” she assured him. Turning on the spot, they Apparated to the airport to begin the first day of the rest of their lives.


	27. Chapter 27

Five days had passed since Harry and Ginny Potter left for their honeymoon, and Molly had been left in charge of Mary. The diminutive witch enjoyed being with her Grandma Molly and spent most of her time helping the Weasley matriarch with her chores, as well as taking care of Victoire when Bill and Fleur left her in Molly’s care. She was now teaching the small girl how to make sweet buns so she could cook them for the Potters when they got back, one week later.

Three days after the wedding, an issue on the Daily Prophet had been published about it. Of course, people were intrigued that the great Harry Potter had decided to get married without telling the rest of the wizarding world, but it was surprisingly devoid of gossip or misinformed ‘facts’. Mary sat on the counter watching Molly cook and started thinking about the wedding. It had really been beautiful, she thought. She looked at Molly for a moment cocking her head.

“Hey, Grandma Molly?”

“Yes, dear?” said Molly over her shoulder.

“Do you think Harry and Ginny will have children of their own any time soon?” Mary asked her.

Molly suddenly tensed and frowned for a moment before relaxing. “That’s a possibility, dear. Why do you ask?”

“No reason, I just always wanted a little brother or sister.”

“Well, when they get back you can ask Harry about it. I’m sure it has crossed his mind now that they’re married,” assured Molly. The thought of her daughter getting pregnant at eighteen didn’t ease her mind, but she knew her baby girl was all grown up now. She was a married woman, and Molly trusted her to make responsible decisions.

This seemed to appease Mary and they kept working on the sweet buns. Mary also spent a lot of time sketching on her notebook. She was making great use of the stationery set Harry had bought her last year, and she found there was no shortage of inspiration in one of the most magical households she had ever seen.

With the excitement of the wedding, and staying at the Burrow, Mary almost forgot her own birthday. So, two days later, she was greeted by the entire Weasley clan, minus Harry and Ginny with a big cake. Mary noticed that some of Harry’s friends were there too, like Luna and Neville, with their respective couples. It was an amazing day for Mary, full of laughter and interesting conversations, most of whom seemed to involve Luna Lovegood and some fantastic creature or other.

She talked to Luna about helping her sketch some of the creatures she was researching in her travels. When Neville approached her, she smiled at him.

“Hello, Professor Longbottom,” she greeted him.

“None of that, Mary. We’re not at Hogwarts now, so I’m Neville,” he told her, sitting across from her.

“Okay, Neville,” she replied, smiling up at him, “How are the greenhouses?” she asked him.

“They’re just great, Mary,’ said Neville. He looked pensive for a moment, scratching the back of his head. “Do you think I’m doing a good job as a teacher?” he asked.

Mary grinned at the older man. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “Everyone has so much fun with you and my friend finally like learning something other than Defence.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said proudly, puffing out his chest. “Actually, I want to tell you something,” he said, leaning in.

“What is it?” said Mary, intrigued.

“Now, this is still a little secret, so try not to say anything,” he said.

“I promise.”

“I’m going to be the Herbology Professor as of this year,” he announced proudly.

“Wow, that’s great Neville!” she exclaimed, embracing her professor in a hug.

“Thank you, Mary. I wanted to tell someone, you know,” he said. “I hope I live up to that review, heh,” he said, chuckling nervously.

Mary assured him he would and sat back down, taking a biscuit from the coffee table. Neville smiled at her before walking off to talk to his girlfriend. All in all, Mary had enjoyed her birthday thoroughly. At the end of the day, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Molly and Arthur, and Arthur produced a small package from his coat.

“Oh Mary, I almost forgot, Harry sent this to you,” he announced, handing her the parcel.

Mary looked it over and raised an eyebrow. It was unmarked, but it didn’t make a sound upon shaking it. She opened it wearily and looked inside. The first thing she saw was a letter, addressed to her in Harry’s handwriting. Beneath it was a pile of sweets, both magical and muggle, with a small note that read: _Hope you enjoy._

Mary picked the letter up and unsealed it. From the envelope fell a picture and a piece of parchment. In the picture, Harry and Ginny were posing in front of the Eiffel Tower with big smiles on their faces. She showed it to Molly, who smiled when the couple in the photograph waved at her. Mary, meanwhile, unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_Dear Mary,_

_Hey, little one, how is the Burrow? Are you and Molly having a good time baking all the time? I just wanted to let you know that we are having the time of our lives, and to wish you a happy birthday. You’re already thirteen, Merlin! I feel like an old parent already. Did you have a good time with the Weasleys on your special day? We’re sorry we couldn’t be there, but we’ll make it up to you next week._

_We are doing just fine. We’re so excited; once we get to a historical landmark we can’t contain ourselves. We’ve taken loads of photos for you to see, and you’re more than welcome to look into my memories if you need an idea for a painting. We miss you a lot, little one, and hope you’re having fun at the Burrow._

_Love,_

_Harry and Ginny._

She folded up the letter and placed it in the parcel with the sweets, thanking Arthur for giving her the present. With a final goodbye, she made her way to Ginny’s old room, which had been turned into her temporary one. The moonlight was already slipping through the curtains, casting elongated shadows on her bed, and she decided to call it a day then. Turning off the light, she drifted off to sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The following week, Mary was dropped off at Potter Manor barely an hour after Harry and Ginny announced they had arrived safely back. She bounded her way around the house until she found the newlyweds unpacking their things in their room. Her first target was her guardian.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, hugging him with all her might.

“Hey, little one. Miss us?” said Harry, returning the pressure.

“I did,” she told them as she gave Ginny the same treatment. She immediately sat down cross-legged on their bed and begged them to tell her about their trip. It was Harry who began.

“We had a great time, sweetheart,” Ginny assured her after the third story, “but what about you? Did you have a fun birthday?”

“Yeah, it was great. Neville gave me a plant called mimbulus mimbletonia,” she told them, “It has a weird defence mechanism,” she added, scrunching up her nose.

“I know, he had one in our fifth year. Covered our entire compartment in Stinksap,” said Harry, “Did you enjoy our present?”

“They were delicious, Harry, thanks,” said Mary. “So how’s married life treating you guys?” she asked them.

“It’s the best thing in the world,” said Harry, taking hold of Ginny’s right hand and kissing it softly.

“He won’t stop calling me Mrs. Potter now,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

“You love every second of it, though,” Harry reminded her.

“Maybe I do, but you’re still annoying,” she told him. With that, she turned and entered the adjoining bathroom.

“God, I love her,” Harry whispered, looking at the spot where she vanished behind the closed door.

“I’m happy you can finally enjoy some peace, Harry,” said Mary, wrapping her small arms around her guardian and kissing his cheek.

After having settled back into their house, Harry had to get into the routine of being a fully fledged Auror. He had been promoted by Robards three days before his wedding, and he was now coming to work for the first time since then.

As soon as he entered, he was greeted by cheering and applause. He was startled out of his reverie and had to blink a number of times before taking in the scene in front of him. Around the main office of the Aurors was every trainee with their partners, cheering for their new addition to the team. Harry noticed with relief that even McGregor was politely nodding at him, which was as good as it got with him after the Hogwarts Express incident.

“Congratulations, partner,” said Abby from his side. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding. Auror business, you know.” She was holding out her hand, which he firmly took.

“What’s all this?” he asked her.

“This is a double celebration. First, for getting that promotion, and then for your marriage,” she explained. Soon enough, everyone in the room had congratulated him and gone back to their business. Harry followed Abby into the conference room, where Robards was waiting for them.

“Welcome back, Auror Potter,” he greeted him with a nod and beckoned for them to take a seat. He waved his wand behind him and images flooded the backboard on the wall. Harry saw with a sickening feeling that they were of mutilated people.

“My god, what is that?” he asked. Most of the bodies had at least one part cut off, with a great amount of blood pooling beneath them.

“These,” said Robards, “were found in ten wizarding households in the muggle world in the past couple of weeks.”

“Why didn’t you let me know, though? I could have cut my honeymoon short,” protested Harry.

“No, you couldn’t have. You’ve been working excellently lately, and you needed the rest,” Robards assured him.

“He’s right, Harry. Plus, there’s nothing at the crime scenes that points to the perpetrators,” said Abby grudgingly.

“Who we believe to be the half-blood killers at it again,” Robards added.

“Are you sure?” asked Harry.

“Pretty sure. All of them are half-bloods who had chosen to live their lives amongst muggles and found a terrible fate.”

“Any of them recent enough?”

Robards nodded and waved his wand once more, making most of the pictures disappear. Only one remained; of a blonde woman with glassy blue eyes.  Her face was almost untouched, fortunately, but the rest of her body was badly maimed. A great portion of her left arm had disappeared, leaving behind a bloody stump.

“This happened just this morning, on the outskirts of Cornwell.”

“Wanna go check it out?” Harry asked his partner, who nodded. They both excused themselves and made their way to the Apparition point in the Atrium. Silently, they Apparated to a back alley, barely a block from the crime scene.

When they got there, local police stopped them on their tracks. Convinced that Harry and Abby were from Scotland Yard, the policemen let them by without further questions. They walked into the house and Harry almost got sick.

The floor of the living room had big blotches of blood circling a chair, which was rooted to the spot with what must have been a Sticking Charm. Harry noticed cut ropes on the floor by the chair and wondered why the killers hadn’t bothered to reinforce them magically. Surprisingly, the rest of the living room was practically intact. Bookcases lined the back wall, some of them stained with drops of blood.

They scoured the scene for about an hour, performing every detection spell imaginable, but eventually came up empty.

“This is bloody useless,” exclaimed Harry angrily, “We’re never going to catch these bastards if we’re only reacting to the murders.”

“Well, what do you suppose we do, then?” asked Abby.

“I’m not sure yet,” said Harry, running his hands through his messy hair for the tenth time that day.

“Don’t worry, Harry. These guys are smart, but they’re bound to slip up at some point,” Abby assured him.

“I guess you’re right. I’m just tired of it, is all,” he replied.

After checking that they hadn’t missed anything, they went back to the Auror Office. They grudgingly made the paperwork necessary for the blonde woman’s case and started to look for clues in the photographs they had. Unfortunately, they found none. _I’m getting tired of this crap,_ thought Harry ruefully.

Days passed with the same routine, and Harry was getting tired of having to see all those victims and being powerless to do something about it. Four days later, two more people had been found dead in their homes, and again they had not gotten a single shred of evidence as to who they might be out of the crime scenes. Friday came along swiftly, and he was thankful that this day, there hadn’t been a murder. After having a peaceful day for once, he still went home feeling exhausted.

That evening, Harry tried to relax with his wife and Mary at dinner, but it wasn’t as simple as that. He couldn’t stop thinking about all those people that had lost their lives while he was out there enjoying a vacation. He knew Abby was right in not calling him in, yet he still had a gnawing feeling in the back of his head that something didn’t add up. They really needed a break in this case; they just did.

After dinner, Harry excused himself from the table and went into the study. He locked and silenced the room and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his supposedly untapped power and let it flow through his veins. He felt it coursing through his body, radiating heat to his surroundings, casting an eerie yellow glow around him. When he was confident, he pictured his torso like that of a majestic phoenix. The sense of tingling greeted him, and he growled in frustration when no transformation was forthcoming.

For hours he practiced, releasing a larger amount of power each time. Around midnight, he had finally made progress. The entire upper part of his body had changed to that of a phoenix, with human legs attached to it. He figured one body part was more than enough progress and was about to leave the study, but that feeling in his head still stuck. Heaving a sigh, he mustered as much power as he could and pictured himself as a beautiful red and gold phoenix with bright green eyes.

This took another two hours to master, but he could eventually turn his entire body into a phoenix and back in less than ten seconds. Triumphant, he screamed at the top of his lungs, breaking through the silent atmosphere outside. While transformed, he noticed his hearing had improved drastically. Calls of birds and other small animals from outside reached his ears with a clarity he couldn’t believe was possible. Owls hooted noisily, perched on branches from nearby trees. Even crickets seemed to be buzzing in his ear, he realised. While perched on the windowsill, he looked out the window into the dark of the night. Instead, it wasn’t dark at all.

He saw his garden with perfect clarity, his pupils barely straining as he took in the vivid colours of grass, bark, and rustling leaves. He knew it was almost two in the morning, yet his eyes did not deceive him. It had a certain beauty to it, he thought to himself. After a time, he flew back to where he had stood in the middle of the room and focused on turning back.

He could feel the raw power rushing in his body, a hot feeling that had nothing to do with the summer weather. Looking down, he was relieved to see his arms and hands had returned. Beneath his feet, however, he noticed something else. On the floor around him, in what seemed like a perfect circle, was a big round scorch mark.

“Crap,” he whispered, “Winky!” he said. A faint pop announced the elf’s presence, and she bowed to Harry.

“Master Harry, sir,” she said, “What is you needing?”

“Could you clean this up, please? I seem to have gotten out of control,” he told her apologetically. She didn’t even protest for a second and got to work on the magical scorch mark. Harry thanked her again and made his way to his own room, where he tiredly undressed and laid down beside his wife. Wrapping one arm around her reminded him of why he was doing all of this. He felt like he had somehow made progress, whatever that meant.

The following day, Harry rose early from a nightmare. He hated to say it that way, but he was starting to get used to them again. There was something about them, though, that made him restless. During his time at Hogwarts, they used to forebode an imminent threat concerning Voldemort, but these were different. He didn’t have a clue how or why he was getting such detailed and ominous dreams, let alone why he had known Mary would get hurt before it happened. He hoped it had just been a coincidence...

Two weeks later, Mary got onto the Hogwarts Express to start her third year, Hogsmeade permission slip signed and secure in her trunk. She and Harry continued their correspondence every two weeks, as they always had. He was extremely excited when Mary told him she had made the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as Seeker.

Throughout the first term, Harry maintained a steady routine. He would go to work every day, trudging through the murder cases and attempting to make sense of the reasoning behind the terrorist group. Around mid-October, Abby and he had managed to find a break, albeit a small one. A strand of hair had been found at the scene of a double homicide. Abby had smiled knowingly at him, nodding as they both inspected the hair to find its owner.

When they did, Harry almost roared in anger: Umbridge was not out of his life just yet.

Another thing he did often was to spend more time with his godson. The small blue-haired baby was already two and a half years old, so Harry and Andromeda had decided to start his early education. Molly was a great help in that regard, having home-schooled her seven children by herself. They made sure to start with the basics and teach him to talk, as he was starting to form words on his own, with the odd small sentence.

Harry was sad to hear that Mary would be spending this year’s Christmas holidays at school, as she and her friends were trying to be supportive for Annie, who had lost her father to dragon pox not long ago. He had expressed his condolences to Mary’s friend and wished his ward good luck. One Christmas without her wouldn’t hurt, right?

He was now babysitting his godson while Molly and Andromeda got some Christmas shopping done. To say the least, Teddy wasn’t too happy at the moment for some reason. In a moment of inspiration, Harry had an idea. Setting the baby carefully on the couch, he stood in the middle of the room and transformed into his phoenix form. Teddy let out a squeal of joy as Harry started circling the room, displaying his majestic feathers to the toddler.

Unfortunately, Teddy got too excited and tried to reach the flying bird. In a sudden movement, he fell over forwards and hit his head on the edge of the coffee table. Bleeding, the crying toddler sat cross-legged beside the couch. Worry filled Harry to the core, yet something else nagged at his conscience. Emanating from Teddy himself, he felt a surge of heat. But it didn’t _feel_ like heat, he realised. It was... pain?

Looking directly at his godson, he felt himself frown. A visible aura surrounded the boy, pulsing at a steady rhythm. What struck him as most odd, however, was that he wasn’t only seeing the pulsing aura, but he also heard a steady thumping sound, seemingly coming from nowhere. After looking around, he realised it was his own beating heart. _Maybe that’s another ability_ , Harry thought. Closing his eyes, he focused on Teddy, releasing a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. For a second, nothing happened. Then, he heard it.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Seemingly acting on instinct, he perched himself over the blue-haired baby and closed his eyes. Almost instantly, three glistening tears fell gracefully from them, landing on the cut on Teddy’s forehead. To both Harry’s and Teddy’s astonishment, the wound magically sealed itself. Harry felt the pain he’d sensed leave the room. The baby sat in awe, now silent, watching the bird shed its tears on his forehead.

After he was sure the injury was gone, Harry transformed back to himself and embraced his godson.

“Oh I’m so sorry, Teddy!” he exclaimed.

“Harree,” Teddy cooed, smiling contently in his godfather’s arms.

“Does it hurt now?” Harry asked him. The baby looked up at him blankly, as if processing what Harry had said.

“No,” replied Teddy, shaking his head.

“That’s good, Tedster. I’m glad you’re okay.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Teddy started to drift off. After gingerly placing him in his crib, Harry sat on the armchair in the living room thinking about what happened only minutes earlier. Was it possible he had adopted the abilities of the magical creature? Did this also mean he would be able to lift impossible loads while he was a phoenix? _Only one way to find out,_ Harry thought.

Over the next three days, Harry practiced on his newfound abilities with the help of Ron and Hermione. They spent most of the weekend testing whatever power they knew phoenixes to have. First, they tried the strength.

Changing into a phoenix, Harry hovered six feet in the air and presented a red tail feather to his friends, who took it gingerly, and rose into the air with ease. The summer breeze blew into his face, parting at the tip of his beak. It felt different than flying on a broom, he knew, yet it was impossible to accurately describe. He flew them around the Burrow’s garden for a few minutes before putting them back down.

“That’s bloody brilliant, mate!” exclaimed Ron after they were safely back on the ground.

“I hope we don’t have to test that again, though,” said Hermione, shuddering. She always had an overwhelming fear of heights.

Next, they tested the healing tears. Ron wanted to see for himself, so he volunteered to be the test subject. Using a knife, he sliced his own palm and presented it to the bird. Harry looked at it and felt the same feeling of pain and _sadness_ emanating from the wound as he had with Teddy, as well as Ron’s beating heart thumping in his chest. Shedding two quick tears, Ron’s cut was quickly sealed as if by magic.

“That’s gonna come in handy sometime,” Ron said when Harry turned back into himself, “You’ve also got the faithfulness part down pat, don’t we?” he quipped, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“You can say that again,” replied Harry, “What else is left?”

“The only one I can think of is Flashing,” said Hermione.

“Flashing?” inquired Ron.

“It’s a phoenix’s form of transport. It’s basically like Apparition, but they disappear in a flash of fire and are not affected by anti-Apparition charms,” she explained as if she were describing the weather.

“I saw Dumbledore and Fawkes do that when Fudge was trying to have him arrested,” said Harry.

“Well, let’s give it a try,” Ron said.

Harry nodded and transformed once more. He wasn’t sure how he would go about Flashing, but he figured his phoenix self would know. He perched himself on a low tree branch and pictured himself in the living room, where he knew Ginny and Molly were babysitting Teddy and Victoire. Something in him told him it was different than Apparition; so, instead of turning on the spot, he instinctively spread his wings and felt a surge of heat and fire surround him.

In an instant, the view of the Burrow’s garden had vanished and been replaced with a beautiful redhead with a small redheaded baby smiling up at her. Both Ginny and Molly jumped back from the shock, while the babies started giggling at the sight of the majestic red and gold bird sitting on the couch’s armrest.

“Fawkes?” said Molly, looking him up and down. Harry shook his head and looked straight at Ginny.

“That’s not Fawkes, Mum. Look at his eyes. That’s Harry,” she said, reaching forward to stroke the feathers on Harry’s neck. As she did, Harry closed his eyes and felt content. After a thought popped into his head, he opened his beak. He wasn’t sure it would work, but he had to try, right?

He attempted to sing, yet what came out sounded nothing like his human voice. A heavenly sound filled the room, enveloping the others. Harry’s mind was swarmed with memories of his time with Ginny. The time he’d kissed her in the common room. The time she’d agreed to marry him. The time she said, “I do.” As the song wound to a close, the memories left yet the feeling of euphoria remained.

He decided he had been a phoenix long enough, so he concentrated and turned himself back into a human. Almost without warning, Ginny embraced her husband tightly.

“I’m so proud of you, Harry, that was beautiful,” she told him.

“Was that a phoenix’s song?” asked Molly from the loveseat.

“I think it was, how did it feel like to you?” asked Harry. Ginny regarded him for a second and raised her eyebrow.

“Like I could produce the biggest Patronus ever,” she said, a smile on her face. “It reminded me of our wedding,’ said Ginny.

“Yeah, me too,’ Harry said, looking into those beautiful brown eyes. For a moment, he forgot how much he missed Mary, the frustration he felt concerning the ‘Half-blood killers’, and everything bad that had ever happened to him.

“I could also hear your heartbeats,” he added.

“You could?” asked Ginny, intrigued.

“Yeah, now I know you really do love me," he teased her, smiling and kissing her forehead.

“Of course I do, dummy,” she exclaimed.

“Well, I love you too,” he said, capturing her lips in his.

After such an event, he couldn’t help but feel like everything would work out in the end. That he would be prepared for anything. He would catch the half-blood killers, and _that_ was a promise.


	28. Chapter 28

After his rather impressive discovery during the Christmas holidays, Harry spent a lot of his free time polishing his abilities and making sure he could be able to use them in a time of need. He had gotten adept at transforming rapidly into a phoenix, and he had found he could probably lift the entire Weasley clan if he so desired while in that form.

Only a few days after New Years, he received a letter from his cousin, begging him to meet him at Surrey Memorial Hospital. Gulping in anticipation and bidding his wife goodbye, he Apparated to an alley half a block away from the address Dudley had given him. Exiting, he looked around and saw a rather distraught-looking Dudley pacing back and forth in from of the hospital doors. Harry approached him and shook his cousin’s hand.

“Hey, I came as soon as I got your letter, what’s up?” Harry said, following him into the hospital.

“It’s Dad,’ said Dudley, “He’s bad, Harry, I don’t know what to do.”

Harry furrowed his brow as they traversed the halls in search of his uncle’s room. Again, a big part of his brain was telling him that the fat whale deserved it for all the years of neglect and abuse. He thought of Ginny’s reaction to Dudley’s initial invitation two years ago, and a small burst of anger swelled in him. Nonetheless, he forced himself to endure this, for he had made a promise to himself of trying as hard as he could to keep these ties to his mother.

A rather awkward three minutes later, they converged on a set of double doors, which led to Vernon’s private room. _Of course, he wouldn’t want the company of other sick people,_ Harry thought bitterly. Upon entering, he saw a very dishevelled-looking Vernon with his eyes closed, hooked to a machine by various tubes and wires that seemed to barely be keeping him alive. To his right was Petunia, her blond hair barely scraping her shoulders and eyes closed as she tried hard not to cry.

Harry was startled to see the third person in the room staring directly at him. In a corner to Vernon’s left was Cho Chang, smiling awkwardly at Harry. Harry recovered quickly and extended his hand.

“Cho, good to see you after so long,” he said, smiling despite himself.

At the sound of his voice, Vernon’s eyes flew open and landed on the black-haired wizard standing at the door. His eyes were bloodshot, he noticed. Half his head was devoid of hair, what little he had left hanging by a thread to his scalp.

“What are you doing here, boy?” he grumbled, though it was clear it was costing him dearly to utter more than two words.

Harry turned reluctantly to face his aunt and uncle, adopting a stoic demeanour. Both Vernon and Petunia stared at him suspiciously before the beefy man spoke, albeit slowly.

“I asked you... a question,” he said menacingly. If it had been meant to scare Harry, he had failed miserably. In Harry’s youth, those words had meant at least a week in the cupboard, but now they had no effect on the wizard.

“Dudley told me to come,” he said simply. He tried to keep his tone civil, though every bone in his body urged him to hex the man who had made his childhood a living hell.

“Have you come to gloat?” replied Vernon, relaxing a bit before lying back on his bed.

“I wouldn’t do that, don’t need to,” answered Harry, crossing his arms nonchalantly. Dudley and Cho were watching the exchange from the corner without saying a word.

“Ah, came to get into my good graces so you’ll get into my will, then? Not happening, boy,” growled Vernon, coughing with the effort of maintaining a steady conversation. At this, Harry had to laugh at his uncle’s stupidity. “What’s so funny?” demanded his uncle.

“Uncle Vernon, I don’t think you realise that I don’t need to do that either,” Harry told him, “I’m in no immediate need for money, muggle or wizard.”

The large man decided silence was his best option at this point, so he remained still as Harry approached Cho again. He was about to shake her hand when she hugged him fiercely. Surprised, he sought out Dudley, who shrugged at him, and decided to hug her back. A few seconds passed and they broke apart.

“It’s good to see you, Harry,” she said, locking her fingers with her boyfriend.

“You too, Cho,” he replied, “I haven’t seen you since the battle,” he said solemnly.

Cho’s face grew sombre but she nodded. Dudley’s head whipped around to look at the woman beside him.

“Hold on, you fought in the battle? You never told me that,” he exclaimed, furrowing his brow.

“It didn’t seem relevant,” she said, shrugging. She turned to Harry again and cocked her head, “I read that you’re training to be an Auror?”

Harry groaned. “You mean you read my chocolate frog card?” he said, “I’m actually a real Auror now.”

“Well, congratulations then. I was just as surprised as you to see you there,” she said, “I thought they’d ask you for permission or something.”

“No one ever asked me anything,” he replied, rolling his eyes. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, a poignant silence between the teens. “So what are you up to these days?” he asked lamely.

“I work at Gringotts at the moment, account manager,” she said. The Dursleys were staring at them with awe, without really understanding a word.

“I wonder why I’ve never seen you there. I’m a regular, you see,” he told her, grinning.

“I know, but your vault is the biggest, so they would only let a very high-ranking goblin manage it. I don’t even know how you get in there, as the carts don’t go that deep,” she said.

“Apparition, and very intricate keys,” he told her. Petunia chose that moment to clear her throat and bring herself to their attention.

“What does she mean, vault?” she sounded curious rather than contemptuous, and Harry was taken aback by her amicable tone. Friendliness aside, her eyes scrutinised the man thoroughly.

“Er, she’s talking about my vault at the wizard bank, Gringotts,” he said carefully.

“But how would your vault be the biggest if you’re barely 20,” said Dudley this time, speaking for the first time since arriving in his father’s room.

“Well, my godfather was extremely rich and when he died he left everything to me,” he explained sadly, “and my father was just as rich, so I inherited two of the biggest vaults when I turned seventeen.”

In an attempt to change the subject away from money, Cho asked Harry about his wedding, a subject he happily accepted. Until Petunia had something to say, that is.

“You got married?” she exclaimed, bewildered.

“Yeah, remember the pretty redhead I introduced you to two years ago?” She nodded. “That’s the one.”

“Well, er, congratulations.” Her voice was almost a whisper, but Harry heard it loud and clear as if there was more to those words than his aunt was letting on. He decided not to push and turned to Dudley.

“Okay Duds, spill it,” he started, ‘why did you want me to come here, really?” he asked him.

“What are you talking about, Harry?” mumbled Dudley, looking down at his feet.

“You know I could just read your mind and know anyway, right?” he reminded him, exposing his wand.

“Alright, alright,’ said Dudley lifting his hands in the air, “I wanted to see if you knew of anything that could save my dad,” he told him, looking sadly down.

Harry stood in silence for a moment before sparing a glance for Dudley’s girlfriend, “What about Cho, she’s a witch as well.”

“She already tried everything she knew, and she said if anyone could save him, it was you.” Harry turned to Cho, who nodded in agreement at Dudley’s words and sighed. Might as well try.

Harry nodded and stood at Vernon’s bedside, much to the old man’s chagrin. In a moment of inspiration, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his phoenix form; the feeling of elation that coursed through his body every time he soared through the air. Forcing himself to stay in his human form, he felt a sudden surge of power rushing through his veins and opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed had changed was his vision. Although not quite the way he saw the world when he was an actual phoenix, he could _feel_ the heartbeat of the people in the room, as well as his own. Unlike when he was a magical bird perched on a tree branch or couch armrest, he couldn’t feel the _pain_ emanating from the old man. It seemed, Harry inferred, that using a phoenix’s abilities only went so far when one was not transformed into a phoenix.

He directed his enhanced hearing towards his uncle and felt only a weak heartbeat, barely keeping up with the overly large man’s breathing. He tried to think of any spell or potion that might cure his condition, but he came up empty. There were some problems magic just couldn’t solve.

“I’m sorry Duds, there’s nothing I can do to cure cancer,” he told his cousin, “Magic only goes so far.”

“I was afraid of that, but thanks for coming anyway,” Dudley said, clapping his shoulder.

Harry thought about how to cheer Dudley up and got an idea. “Hey, what did your parents say when you told them you were dating a witch?” he whispered with a visible smirk on his face.

Dudley let out a chuckle as he recomposed himself, “Dad was furious, said I would end up like you.”

“Sounds like him,” Harry growled bitterly.

“Mum was a little more understanding, though. She thought about it, and eventually told me to do whatever made me happy.”

“That’s great Duds,” Harry told his cousin. Harry looked back at Petunia and sighed. Was his aunt reconsidering her attitude?

They talked about their current lives for a while before Harry had to leave. He bid Cho, Petunia, and Dudley goodbye, while nodding at Vernon curtly, and got to Potter Manor before dinner was to be served. Over dinner, Harry told his wife about his day with the Dursleys and his cousin’s involvement with Cho. He could have sworn he saw the glimmer of a smile on her face when he told her about his uncle’s rather precarious condition, but he decided to ignore it.

The following afternoon, Harry and Ginny visited Shell Cottage to meet their new niece. They arrived at the doorstep and knocked twice, after which they were greeted by a smiling Victoire. Ginny picked her up as they entered the house and looked around for her parents.

“Harree!” the one-year-old exclaimed, hugging her uncle fiercely. Her waist-length blonde hair was streaked with an auburn tone around the tips by now, and she had definitely inherited her mother’s Veela beauty and charm. Her eyes were dark blue like her mother’s, and she was overly protective of her uncle Harry. The thought made Harry smile every time he saw her.

Moments later, Fleur emerged from the kitchen, holding a small bundle of blankets in her arms.

“Ah, I thought I ‘eard you come in,” she said, smiling at Harry and Ginny.

“Is that Dominique?” asked Harry, inching forward to get a look at the baby. She had a tuft of bright red hair covering her small head. Her eyes were closed, moving wildly beneath pale eyelids.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” cooed Fleur softly.

“She’s gorgeous, Fleur,” said Harry, smiling at the baby’s scrunched up nose.

“We’re so sorry we haven’t visited, we’ve been swamped,” Ginny apologized before being interrupted by Fleur.

“Nonsense, Ginnee,’ she said, ‘don’t apologize for doing your job. The important thing is you’re here now.”

“Can I hold her?” said Harry.

“Of course, ‘Arry,” she told him, handing him the bundle in her arms.

He took the baby gingerly and cooed over her, humming softly when Dominique stirred. The three adults sat down on the armchairs in the living room while Vee played with decorated blocks whose pictures changed according to how she arranged them. Fleur, Harry, and Ginny talked for the better part of an hour before they heard the front door open and Bill came in.

“Hey, I didn’t know you guys would be here,” he exclaimed when he saw his sister and brother-in-law.

“Neither did we, it was a spur of the moment decision,” said Harry with a sideways glance at Ginny, who stuck out his tongue at him.

“I see,” said the tall redhead, setting his coat on the armrest and planting a soft kiss on his wife’s forehead. He looked down at Ginny and raised an eyebrow.

“Actually, there was something Fleur and I wanted to ask you, Firefly,” Bill said, sitting next to his wife and smiling at his sister.

Ginny glanced up at the use of her old nickname. She had always been closest with Bill out of all her brothers, followed closely by Charlie, and when she was little he had come up with the nickname for her. She loved it when he used it on her because it made her feel special. As she grew up, however, Bill stopped using it, and this was the first time she had heard that name in seven years.

“Sure Bill, what’s up?” she said pleasantly, interlocking her fingers with Harry’s free hand.

Bill looked at their adjoined hands before starting, “Fleur and I have been talking, and we wanted to ask you something.”

“Would you like to be Dominique’s godmother?” said Fleur, beaming at her sister-in-law. Over the past two years, the two women had gotten closer and often relied on each other for what they called “girl talk”.

Ginny was taken aback and instantly looked at Harry for support. It was not often she was left speechless, so Harry stepped up for her, “I think she would be delighted,” he told them, warranting a smack on the shoulder from Ginny, who smiled at her brother.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say. Of course, I would be honoured,” she exclaimed, “Thank you.”

“No problem, Firefly. We know how much you will care for our little girl, and what a great job you guys are doing with Teddy,” Bill said, softly placing a scarred hand on Dominique’s head. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She sure is,” said Ginny, looking between the baby and Harry for a few seconds.

The four adults talked for hours, even over dinner, about their lives in and outside of their jobs, usually going back to Harry’s seemingly unsolvable case. Bill, in particular, was very interested in that subject. He wondered how it was possible for Death Eaters, who have never proven to be the brightest, to suddenly conceal themselves and their footsteps so easily.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Bill,” said Harry when he asked, ‘I’ve been wondering the same thing for over a year now.”

“Do you think they could be using a Fidelius Charm?” asked Fleur.

“We think that’s a possibility, which makes this case all the more frustrating,” he replied, running his hands through his messy hair.

“Don’t worry, love, you’ll get them eventually. You’re Harry bloody Potter,” Ginny exclaimed, “You can do anything.”

“Thank you for the support, Gin,” he said weakly smiling at his wife.

It turned out Ginny’s support didn’t make much difference when it came to solving the case, as the half-blood killers were still terrorizing the wizarding community without a clear pattern or objective in mind. _That was the worst part_ , Harry thought. Voldemort at least had had a clear objective in mind, but these murders seemed to be too random and too meaningless.

He still kept regular correspondence with Mary, who kept him informed of the inner workings of Hogwarts. Apparently, Ravenclaw were crushing it in the Quidditch cup, and Harry thought he knew who was responsible for that. When he said as much, Mary was very modest about it, claiming that her team did most of the work anyway.

Days morphed into weeks, and Harry and Abby were nowhere near catching the terrorists they had been assigned to bring to justice. Days became a routine for Harry, in which he was thrown with a brutal force into nightmarish crime scenes. Only special dates could take his mind off his work, such as Valentine’s day, where he and Ginny had a day-long date all over muggle London, even going so far as to ride the London Eye with her. Needless to say, she had a hell of a day.

The other date that seemed to stop time and put a smile on Harry’s face was Teddy’s third birthday on April 21st. They all spent the day at Potter Manor with the entire Weasley clan, celebrating both Teddy’s and Victoire’s birthdays. The two of them were inseparable, and most of the day was spent making sure they didn’t wander together into the woods around the house.

As little Teddy was getting bigger every day, Harry started thinking about the possibility of adding that Quidditch pitch they’d discussed to their garden. His godson was getting better on the toy broom Harry had gotten him last year, but he was starting to outgrow it. Ginny was obviously on board with the idea, so he was just left with the instruction to at least make it professionally accurate.

About two months after Teddy’s birthday, Harry walked into the office to a brand new atmosphere; one of hope instead of despair. Abby almost jumped at him when he walked in and led him straight to the conference room, where Robards was waiting for them with a number of pictures up on the opposite wall over a map of England.

“Good morning, Potter. Have a seat,” Robards said by way of greeting. Harry and Abby obeyed and sat, waiting for their boss to begin.

“Not ten minutes ago, Auror Smith here cracked an important code to solving this bloody puzzle,” he started.

“Wait, you figured out how to find them?” Harry exclaimed excitedly looking at his partner.

“Not yet, but I noticed something about their pattern. It’s not random at all,” she explained.

“How so?” he asked.

Abby stood up and walked up to the front of the conference room, where just under a hundred pictures of the different victims were displayed next to the point on the map where they were killed. They formed an indescribable jumble of locations without a definite pattern.

“Our problem was that we were looking for a straight chronological pattern all the time when we should have been looking at the randomness of the attacks,” said Abby excitedly, almost tripping on her words.

“English, please?” Harry said, confused. He was straining his already poor sight for any sign of consistency among the attacks.

“Look at this,” she told him. She waved her wand and many pictures dissolved into nothingness, while at least forty-five stayed. He noticed that these were all the male victims and that all female ones had vanished.

“What am I looking at?” he asked.

“Look at the shape they form on the map,” she urged, pointing at the pictures. Upon inspection, Harry finally saw it. It was so clear he cursed himself for not seeing it before. Across the map of England, formed by the crime scenes of the murders, was a lightning bolt, much like the one on Harry’s forehead. The bottom part seemed to be smaller than the top, he noticed.

“My god, that’s brilliant,” he exclaimed.

“But wait, there’s more,” said Robards, nodding at Abby, who waved her wand once more. This time, the pictures of the male victims vanished, and the female ones reappeared, forming another shape. It was a giant P, rather short on the bottom part again. Of course, they would taunt him even in their attacks, Harry thought ruefully.

“So the pattern had to do the sex of the victims, forming two different patterns altogether?” he summarised.

“Exactly. Remember that the only concrete thing we could identify was that they attacked them one at a time, never repeating it?” she reminded him.

“Yeah, you’re right. Last victim was a woman, so this time it’s a man around the area of Bristol?” he concluded, pointing at the South-West of the map, around which the lightning bolt was abruptly cut short.

“This is incredible,” Abby exclaimed, almost jumping on the balls of her feet. “After almost two years, we might be getting somewhere with this case!”

“It’s been three days since the last attack, I think today is our best bet at catching them red-handed,” said Harry, grabbing his coat from the chair and sprinting from the office, Abby hot on his heels.

They checked the magical community living in Bristol and cross-referenced it to the profiles of the victims. Fortunately, there were only three half-blood wizards living in the city of Bristol at the moment who could be of interest to the half-blood killers. They had noticed that most, if not all of the victims lived alone, rather than with another person. Robards gave them permission to bring backup, and the first to volunteer was McGregor.

“Let’s go catch those bastards,” he exclaimed angrily. Harry took that as a positive sign and, along with Abby and four other Aurors, made his way to the Apparition point. There, they initiated the first active retaliation they had been able to command against the half-blood killers. _We have a chance this time,_ Harry thought triumphantly. This could very well be the beginning of the end.


	29. Chapter 29

Harry and the other Aurors arrived in a matter of seconds at the edge of the city of Bristol. Despite it being the middle of the day, a thick mist covered the otherwise captivating streets. Black clouds coated the sky, threatening the Aurors with a downpour that might rain down on them at any moment. The group examined the scene and spotted a small number of pedestrians milling about before whatever storm was about to hit.

Abby set out to coordinate the rest into stakeout patterns around two of the houses they were about to visit. Harry wondered why they weren’t just letting the possible targets know a threat might be coming for them.

“If we let them know beforehand, we might give away the fact that we’re onto them,” she explained when they were alone and making their way to the third house, where lived Jonathan Carver. When they arrived, they inspected the surroundings of the house in question. It was a simple cottage with little windows sidelining what Harry assumed was the living room. Beyond the backyard was the edge of a group of trees that led to a clearing about half a mile from there.

“Perfect,” he whispered, conjuring a small tent over a number of dead branches, in perfect view of the Carver residence.

“I’ll get the wards,” said Abby, casting Disillusionment Charms around them for better protection.

After their preparations, the pair sat down on the edge of the tent, looking over the small backyard and into the living room of the cottage, where Jonathan Carver was apparently enjoying the company of two guests. Based on the fact that the television was on, Harry assumed these particular guests were muggles.

After a rather boring two hours of nothing out of the ordinary happening, Abby turned to Harry and asked, “So, how’s married life treating you?”

“What?” asked Harry, too concentrated on Carver’s activities to hear her.

“Well, we might be here a while, might as well entertain ourselves,” she said.

“Er, it’s great,” he conceded, “I love her.”

“Super interesting, Potter, very concise,” she teased, rolling her eyes.

“Actually,” he said hesitantly, “a couple of days ago we were discussing the idea of children,” he told her.

Abby stared wide-eyed at Harry for a second before saying, “Wow, that’s pretty neat, Potter.”

“We’re not sure yet, so calm down,” he said, “I do think Ginny would want a couple more years as a professional player before becoming a mum.”

“Makes sense, she’s a great player,” Abby said, “I’m actually a Harpies fan myself.”

“Really?” asked Harry, “Well, I could get you tickets if you’d like,” he told her.

“You would do that?” she exclaimed.

“Of course, what are friends for?” he assured her. After their conversation, silence ensued again. Hours passed, and Carver seemed to still be in perfect health, if not a little on the heavy side.

At seven o’clock, Harry produced a quick Patronus to let Ginny know he might be coming home very late in the evening. Abby chastised him for doing so, saying that Carver might have seen it. Rolling his eyes, Harry stowed his wand in his robes again. They only had to wait two more hours before the subject of their conversation called it a day and headed off to bed.

The mist had already settled in on them by that time, a thick blanket slithering its way through the roads and into the backyards. Visibility was poor at best. They could barely see the cottage by now, and their stakeout would become pointless soon enough. Harry was determined to catch the culprits, however, so he tried to recreate what he had done at the hospital with his uncle.

Letting a bit of the phoenix through, his senses were once again heightened. Although he could not actually see through the mist, his enhanced hearing let him visualize Carver’s heartbeat all the way to his bedroom. He stared at the point where he knew the possible victim to be for about another hour before something caught his attention. There was now another heartbeat at the bottom floor of the house, making its way slowly up the stairs. This one was most likely spiked with adrenaline.

“There’s someone inside,” he whispered as loud as he could to Abby, who raised an eyebrow.

“How do you know? I can’t see anything.”

“Trust me, okay?” he said, which seemed to be all Abby needed to believe him.

“Okay, what do we do now?” she asked.

“First, I will go in and try to subdue whoever is in there,” he started, “I need you to stay here to call for backup in case things go south.”

“How are you going in without them seeing you? They probably test for disillusioned people,” she reminded him.

“I know, I’ll use this,” he said, reaching into his robes and taking out his father’s invisibility cloak.

Abby rolled her eyes, “They might catch a glimpse of you,” she told him, “No cloak in infallible, Potter.”

Grinning, Harry said, “This one is.”

With that, Harry took off into the misty night, wand in one hand and the cloak in another. In a matter of seconds, he was at the back door, pointing his wand at the door handle, which opened with a click. Looking up at the ceiling, he heard the second heartbeat approach the victim slowly and steadily. He threw the cloak over himself and slowly made his way to the staircase.

An eerie shiver crept down his spine when he reached the first-floor landing, which he attributed to nerves. Before he could take another step, he was almost blinded by a flashing red light coming from an open door that most likely led to Carver’s room. In the darkness that ensued, he could see or hear nothing but the two heartbeats, now walking past him and down into the living room. One of them, he noticed, was much slower now.

Harry took his chance and tiptoed down the stairs up to the hallway before he was startled by a light being turned on. As he took in the scene in front of him, his eyes flashed in anger. Being tied to a chair was a Stunned Jonathan Carver. The person casting the spell, however, was a much too familiar one. Harry recognized the short brown hair and the toad-like features of the woman who tortured him for an entire year.

Throwing off his invisibility cloak, he pointed his wand at Umbridge. “You!” he hissed, startling the woman.

Umbridge turned around with a fake smile to see Harry standing in the doorway, pointing her own rather short wand at him.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” she said in her sweet squeaky voice, “How nice of you to join us.”

“So you decided to join him at last, didn’t you?” Harry spat, still steadfastly aiming at her heart.

“Well, of course, Potter,” she exclaimed, “What was I to do otherwise?” she asked matter-of-factly.

Harry growled menacingly before Umbridge whipped her wand around her head and fired a Stinging Hex at him, which he easily deflected. Harry had to fling himself behind a couch at that moment, casting a shield for him to his left as he shot a Disarming spell at her from his right. The toad-like woman levitated a chair to stop his spell from hitting home, just before she sent the remaining splinters flying in Harry’s direction.

Before the splinters could hit their intended target, Harry Apparated to the other side of the room, to Umbridge’s left. He quickly and successfully froze her legs in place with the Glacius charm. Unfortunately for him, she recovered from the shock rapidly and yelled, “Pungo!”

Due to her unstable balance, her aim was impaired and the hex connected with Harry’s abdomen before he could react. A sizeable gash on the left side of his belly rendered him immobile, dropping his wand when he hit the floor with a thump. Triumphantly, Umbridge melted the glass holding her prisoner and stood over a badly hurt Harry. With a quick spell, Harry’s entire body was paralysed as he witnessed the scene as if from far away.

Umbridge bid her time, stepping forcefully on Harry’s wound. He tried to cry out in pain, but the curse was impeding him from moving a muscle. She twirled her wand in her hands as she finally decided on pointing it directly at Harry’s heart.

“Finally, I can be rid of you for good,’ she hissed maniacally, her eyes flashing dangerously. “AVADA KE-,”

She was unable to finish the spell as a full body-bind curse hit her square in the back, and she fell face first onto the floor to Harry’s left. He looked incredulously at the point where she once stood and saw his partner looming over him with a smile on her face.

“Didn’t think I’d let you die like this, did you?” she asked, crouching at his side and inspecting his wound. She performed the counter-curse and was freed from the spell.

“Good thing you turned up when you did, thank you,” he breathed, flinching at the touch of her fingers on his wound.

Gingerly, she helped Harry to his feet as the other Aurors assigned to this mission arrived at the house and revived the Stunned victim. Pain shot through his abdomen, making him groan and fall to his knees. McGregor and Abby assisted Harry by levitating him out of the house, while the latter drifted in and out of consciousness.

“Stay with us, Potter,” said Abby when he caught him closing his eyes for the third time, “You’re not dying on us tonight.”

“I’m not...” whispered Harry, slowly fainting as the loss of blood became too much for him.

Harry couldn’t tell how much time he was trapped in his ever-recurring nightmare before he started regaining some of his consciousness. He could see a bright white light attempting to penetrate his eyelids and a grumble of voices coming from his left and right. With great effort, he opened his eyelids a fraction.

He was in a white room, on a rather comfortable bed and surrounded by three people. Although everything was a blur, he recognized one of the people as his wife Ginny by her fiery red hair. The other two were a mystery, so he tried unsuccessfully to sit up. This, however, got the attention of the people in the room.

“Harry!” exclaimed Ginny when he noticed movement, rushing to his side and caressing the side of his face, “Can you hear me?” she whispered.

With even more effort, Harry urged his mouth to open and utter what little coherent words he could. “Still not dead,” he whispered back.

Despite herself, Ginny chuckled at her husband’s morbid sense of humour and called forth the other two people in the room. As they reached the bed, Ginny took Harry’s glasses off the bedside table and put them on his face. He recognized Healer Peralta from Mary’s incident two years ago, but he couldn’t place the face of the woman beside him.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter,” Healer Peralta said, starting the process of checking Harry’s vitals with his wand, “You sustained a major injury to your abdomen, losing a great amount of blood in the process,” he stated, “However, you should be fine for now. You got lucky, real lucky.”

Harry tried to sit up again, which only brought an immense amount of pain to his side. Ginny rushed forward to stop him and shook her head.

“Try not to move for now, love,” she advised him, “You messed yourself pretty bad back there,” she teased.

“Wasn’t trying to,” he replied weakly, “I was reckless,” he declared bitterly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” she said, “Abby and the others took care of Umbridge, and she’ll get a trial next week.”

Harry laid back and let out a breath, looking at Healer Peralta, “Will I be okay by then?” he asked.

“I’d say with proper rest, you’ll be just fine in a few days, though I wouldn’t indulge in any type of physical activity for the next two weeks or so.”

“Thank you,” said Ginny, taking Harry’s hand in hers. When the Healer and what Harry assumed was his assistant left, in came the other visitors that had been waiting to come in.

Ron and Hermione were the first to be let in, followed closely by Mary. The adults stayed at his side while the diminutive blonde witch hurled herself at Harry, embracing him tightly. When Harry flinched, Mary detached herself from him and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry Harry,” she exclaimed.

“It’s okay, little one,” he breathed, nodding at her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said, smiling now, “I was about to write you a letter, and then McGonagall said you were injured and I was so worried something had happened to you. I tried to get here as fast as I could, but she said I could only come when you got better and I...”

“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart,” Ginny interrupted her with a smile, “Remember to breathe.”

Mary grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, sorry, I was just worried.”

“I appreciate that, little one,” replied Harry, placing a comforting hand on Mary’s head as he looked up at his two best friends.

“You had us worried sick, mate,” said Ron, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder while Hermione took his other available hand, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, guys. It means a lot to me,” said Harry, smiling through the pain of moving.

After an extensive number of tests, Harry was released two hours later and accompanied to Potter Manor by Ginny and Mary, who had been allowed to come back sooner as she had already finished her end of year exams. Once they got home, Ginny led him straight to their bedroom, where she set him down and ordered him to rest. No amount of protest would change her mind, so he eventually shut up.

A week later, Harry felt rested and relaxed. Robards had given him a medical leave to recover from his injury, and he had spent most of his time teaching Mary to play Wizard Chess. Apparently, she had never gotten into the habit of playing it, but Harry soon realised she was a natural born player. He eventually suggested she play against Ron, who was still the undisputed chess champion.

On the day of Umbridge’s trial, Harry felt ready to face her. Ginny would be spending the day with Teddy at Andromeda’s place, so he would be going alone. He arrived early in the morning at the Ministry, and slowly made his way to the courtroom, wading through a number of reporters waiting for him. Unfortunately, this particular trial had been largely advertised due to the nature of the accused in question and her ties to the murders that had been terrorising witches and wizards all across the country.

Upon entering, he was brought back to the time when was the victim of a trial accusing him of using underage magic at the age of fifteen. Now, he stood as one of the people against the accused, and he felt great about it. He took his place next to Abby, who was seated a few paces away from the Minister.

They waited for a few minutes before the back doors suddenly opened and two guards were escorting a dishevelled-looking Dolores Umbridge up to the chair in the middle of the room. When they seated her in it, chains spurted as if from nowhere and bound her to the chair in question.

Minister Shacklebolt then sat up and cleared his throat. “We are here today for the trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge, former Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, now a convicted felon and alleged Death Eater. Due to the magnitude of this case, in particular, the whole Wizengamot has been called upon your trial to determine your sentence.”

Umbridge flinched under the intense gaze of her former co-workers, many of whom had no affection for the toad-like woman. Kingsley continued again, “Would you consent to the use of Veritaserum?” he asked Umbridge.

“I would most certainly not,” she exclaimed indignantly.

“Very well,” replied Kingsley grudgingly, “Let us begin, then. I call forward our first witness against the defence, Harry James Potter.”

At the mention of his name, Harry stood up and slowly made his way to the front of the room, where he conjured a chair for himself. He sat determinately, and nodded at Kingsley to continue, “Harry James Potter, would you consent to the use of Veritaserum?”

“Yes, I would,” he said simply. A small murmur arose from the crowd as a Ministry worker Harry didn’t know stepped forward and dipped three small droplets of Veritaserum into his mouth. A pleasant feeling filled his head, and he blinked once before nodding again.

“For the record, is your name Harry James Potter?” asked Kingsley.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“And do you know the defendant, Dolores Jane Umbridge?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us about your relationship with this woman?” Kingsley asked kindly. Harry nodded and cleared his throat.

“The first time I met her was in this very courtroom at the age of fifteen, when I was accused of underage magic. Former Minister Fudge was trying to get me expelled from Hogwarts, and Dolores was one of his most loyal followers. Later that year, she was instated as DADA Professor at Hogwarts,” he explained, “Her methods were simple. She didn’t intend to teach us anything practical, fearing that Dumbledore would use us students in his alleged army against the Ministry.”

A few people chuckled at that comment, and Umbridge became increasingly nervous with every word Harry spoke.

“When I spoke up about the need for learning defensive spells in the wake of Voldemort’s return, she punished me with a week’s worth of detention doing lines.”

“Was this all?” asked Kingsley. Obviously, he knew where Harry was going, but he was obligated to ask such questions.

“No, it was not,” said Harry, “Unfortunately, Umbridge had me use what is called a Blood Quill, so I would write the lines ‘I must not tell lies’ on the back of my hand with my own blood.” A number of gasps issued from the crowd and Harry continued, “The first week, I only had a minor scar on my hand. But by my second week of detention, again for speaking the truth, the words were etched into my hand permanently.”

He lifted his right hand and showed them the back of it, on which the words ‘I must not tell lies’ were displayed. Another round of gasps issued, and many glares flew in Umbridge’s direction. The woman in question was growing more nervous and seemed to be shrinking in on herself by this point.

“Finally,” Harry continued, “I recently caught her sneaking into the house of a half-blood man who we believed would be targeted next in this string of murders we have been investigating. After she had Stunned the victim, I confronted her. We duelled, but she got the better of me, injuring my abdomen. She was about to kill me when Auror Smith miraculously saved me.”

As the effects of the potion wore off, Harry’s mind cleared and he shook his head, blinking rapidly.

“Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Potter, you may return to your seat,” said Kingsley, after which Harry obeyed, “The Wizengamot will now convey, and in thirty minutes time, the sentence will be announced.”

Harry and Abby walked out of the courtroom, where they talked about nothing in particular for about ten minutes. Earlier than anticipated, they were called back in to hear the verdict. Kingsley cleared his throat before saying, “Dolores Jane Umbridge, for the illegal possession and use of a Blood Quill, and your involvement in the half-blood killings, you are hereby sentenced to fifty years in Azkaban.”

“NO!” shouted Umbridge, who seemed to have broken mid-sentence, “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll give you information,” she mumbled.

“I think it’s a little too late for that, Ms. Umbridge,” said Kingsley, raising an eyebrow.

“I can give you the name of the leader,” she promised, a maniacal smirk taking residence in her dishevelled face.

Kingsley and the rest of the Wizengamot began whispering among one another, weighing their possibilities in accepting such a deal, while Harry noticed Umbridge looking straight at him. There was a glint of a smile on her face; a genuine smile that conveyed how happy she was to be there, whatever that meant. He had a bad feeling about this...

After a few minutes, Kingsley cleared his throat one last time and addressed the accused, “Should you give us veridical information, your sentence will be reduced to thirty-five years,” he promised.

Umbridge seemed to be weighing her options as well, considering the reduction of fifteen years from her sentence. Harry knew she had no way of escaping now, so this must be a good deal, not only for her but for them as well. If they knew the name of the leader, more progress might be able to be made.

After five minutes of consideration, Umbridge looked at Kingsley in the eye and nodded, “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” said Kingsley apprehensively.

“The leader of the gang,” she said slowly, pausing just long enough for the sound of the courtroom door slamming to ring through the room, “is Lucius Malfoy.”

Many of the members of the Wizengamot gasped at this information, although many already had such suspicions. They didn’t have much time to ponder this, as a woman Harry recognized from the Auror training program came rushing into the room and ran straight at Harry.

“Auror Potter, sir, something terrible has happened,” she exclaimed, catching her breath as she approached Harry and Abby.

“What do you mean, what’s happened?” he asked nervously. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“It’s your wife, sir,” she said, his stomach sinking to the deepest levels of his body, "She’s been kidnapped.”


	30. Chapter 30

The silence that followed the announcement of Harry Potter’s wife’s abduction was deafening. Nearly the entire courtroom laid eyes on a wide-eyed Harry, who had turned pale as a sheet. He felt as if he were falling in a weightless void, unable and unwilling to stop. Ginny, his Ginny, had been taken from him.

Under the weight of the grief that surrounded him, he found himself being pulled from the courtroom and into a windowless room. It was dark, and the thick stone walls were covered in moss that ran from the floor to the edge of the ceiling. He fell to his knees and ran his hands through his hair. _How did this happen?_ he thought to himself. He had vowed to protect her no matter what, and the kidnappers had taken advantage of their false sense of security.

As if called upon by his own thoughts, the walls of the tiny room began to shake, slowly but steadily closing in on him. The space became smaller and the air around him was being sucked out of the room by the solid stone. He tried to get out, but there seemed to be no way out. There was no way out; he was trapped with no means, magical or otherwise, to escape the inevitable.

Right before he himself was crushed by the shrinking walls, the sound of snapping fingers brought him back to reality. He was still in the courtroom beside Abby, who was trying to get his attention back. He looked into her eyes, and his own bright green ones started glistening. He was lost. “Fuck,” he whispered, his hands closing into fists.

Not even a week had passed since the dreadful news of Ginny’s abduction, and Harry was looking very worse for wear. He felt like an empty husk, strolling about in someone else’s life. For the past three days, Mary had tried relentlessly and unsuccessfully to get more than two words out of him, but he wouldn’t budge.

Ron and Hermione paid regular visits at Potter Manor, but they couldn’t get much leeway when they talked to him. He seemed empty and broken as if the mere task of entertaining people was unbearable for him. Even his breathing seemed shallow and ragged. It was many a time when they would discuss their friend among themselves, trying to figure out a way to break him out of his shell.

One day, after a rather heated argument with Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way back to Ron’s apartment. They were very close to buying a house of their own, but for now, that was their temporary accommodation.

“He’s in bad shape, ‘Mione,” said Ron as they entered the bedroom.

“I know,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s not much we can do except hope Harry finds her soon,” Ron said, running his hands through his hair.

“How come you aren’t more concerned for your sister, Ron?” she asked him incredulously.

“I am, terribly,” he conceded, “but I know my sister can take care of herself quite well. Harry, on the other hand...”

“He’s prone to brooding, that much is for sure.” Hermione sat next to Ron and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, ‘Mione,” he told her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “If anyone can find Ginny, it’s Harry.”

The subject of their conversation lay on his bed one afternoon after having spent the day on the field looking for signs of his wife’s whereabouts. As he tried to close his eyes and get some sleep, honouring Mary’s solemn request from earlier, the memory of his reaction to the tragic news swam to the edge of his awareness.

At first, he had remained silent for a long time, while onlookers drew a breath in anticipation of what he might do. Then, he had exploded. He felt awful about the way he had treated the messenger, claiming she was playing a cruel prank on him.

“You’re lying!” he had screamed at her, shaking in anger and with fire in his eyes, “She’s not gone, you’re lying!”

No amount of screaming and thrashing could deny him the fateful truth, though; Ginny had been taken, and he had been powerless to stop it. Of course, Abby kept reminding him that it was most certainly not his fault, but he knew better. Whose else fault was it, then, if not his? _It was only a matter of time,_ he kept telling himself as if that was supposed to make him feel better.

After the initial shock, Harry had vowed to find her even if it cost him his life, and invested himself fully on the task at hand. Robards, of course, gave him space and promised to help however he could. Harry was actually grateful, though his choice of words in his reply could have been improved.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to tell Ginny that,” he had rebuked at his boss, plunging himself in yet another rush of paperwork and tracking strategies. After that, Harry hadn’t heard much from Robards, but he figured he wasn’t pleased with his attitude.

Now, his chances of finding his wife safe and sound dwindled with every passing day, and he could feel his sanity decaying with them. After a good two hours of sulking, an almost inaudible knock on the door brought him back to reality. He almost told them to shove it, but thought better of it and sighed, unlocking the door with a wave of his wand.

Fresh tears began to pool at the corners of his eyes, but he fought them off just as a tiny figure made itself present in front of him. Mary Windsor was standing with her hands on her hips and a stern face only a disciple of Mrs. Weasley could ever hope to muster.

Behind round glasses not unlike Harry’s, her green-blue eyes reflected disapproval and disappointment. Harry didn’t blame her, obviously, for he had been a less-than-agreeable person in the last seven days. The guilt was eating away at him with every passing second, and he felt worse about it whenever he accidentally lashed out at Mary.

“So,” she said, bringing his attention back to her eyes, “are you going to keep up your sulking and moping much longer?” she asked matter-of-factly.

He looked abashedly down at his hands and let out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding, “What do you want from me, little one?” he pleaded in a defeated tone.

“I want the old Harry back,” she said, not unkindly, as she lifted his chin up to look back at her, “The one who consoled me when I had nothing left; the one who would move Heaven and Earth to keep those he loves away from harm. My hero,” she added in a small whisper that didn’t fail to reach Harry’s ears.

“I’m trying my best, little one,” he told her, “I’m just not strong enough for this, I guess.”

Mary knelt beside Harry slowly and, without any fair warning, slapped him with the little force she could muster. Taken aback, Harry touched the side of his face and looked at Mary in bewilderment.

“What was that for?” he asked her, frowning and massaging the spot where she had hit him.

“Harry, I love you but if you keep acting like this, you’ve got more coming,” she warned, raising her hand, “You need to be strong enough for your wife. I miss her a lot too, but we need to stay focused if we ever hope to see her again.”

Harry was at a loss for words, gently rubbing the side of his face as he looked into Mary’s determined wise eyes, looking back at him with a tenacity he usually attributed to Ginny herself. Despite himself, he managed a small smile at the thought.

“When did you get so wise?” he asked her, patting her shoulder.

“Ginny’s a great mother figure,” she said, smiling back at her surrogate father, “Plus, I’m in Ravenclaw.”

At that moment, Harry laughed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. “You really are special, you know that?” he said, kissing the top of her head gently.

After that eye-opening conversation, Harry strived to keep a level head through his hardship. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that his investigation was leading him nowhere. Andromeda claimed Ginny left her house safe and sound, but Mary never saw her return to Potter Manor, which led Harry to believe she was intercepted before she could Apparate.

No amount of combing the scene, however, gave them any other hints as to who had done it. Harry strongly suspected the half-blood killers were behind this, as a form of retaliation for the capture of Umbridge. Two days later, Abby walked into the office early in the morning to find Harry already there, staring at paperwork from over fifty previous cases.

“Wotcher, Potter,” she said cheerily. Harry was startled and turned to see Abby smiling a sad smile at him.

“Oh, hey,” he said simply, turning back to the papers.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” she asked, leaning on the edge of her desk and crossing her arms.

“Not sure,” Harry answered offhandedly, waving her off. “Two weeks, maybe more?” he guessed, shrugging.

Sighing, Abby put her hand gently on his shoulder, “You need sleep, Potter,” she told him, ‘otherwise, you’re useless.”

Harry chuckled, rubbing his eyes and blinking rapidly.

“Come on, I think I have something that could help you,” she said, “in more than one way.”

“How do you mean?” Harry asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Follow me,” she commanded, walking out of the office and down a hallway that led to the Law Enforcement Office.

After a silent five minutes, Harry and Abby were standing in a holding cell, looking down at the hunched figure of Dolores Umbridge. When Harry looked at Abby in confusion, she explained.

“I figure she may have some information to give us,” she said, “Plus, considering that testimony at her trial, you’ll probably enjoy this.”

Smiling, Harry conjured chairs and a table for them to sit on and waved his wand once more. A bucket of icy water appeared over Umbridge, spilling its contents in one swift motion. Startled, Umbridge looked around and frowned when she spotted the two Aurors sitting at the table and watching her.

“What do you want, Potter?” she spat, standing in the hopes of regaining some grace. It did not help.

“I need to ask you some questions, Dolores,” Harry said politely, nodding at her as he gestured for her to sit down. “And you’re going to answer them.”

“And why would I do that?” she said indignantly, slowly taking a seat under the scrutiny of Harry and Abby.

“Look, I’m not in the mood for this,” said Harry, raising an eyebrow, “I know your group was the one that took Ginny.”

“So what if it was?” she defended herself, “I obviously had nothing to do with that.”

“Perhaps, but it seems odd, doesn’t it?” asked Abby, leaning forwards on the table, “that they would just so happen to abduct Mrs. Potter at the same exact time of your trial.”

“Happy coincidence, I guess.” She donned her girlish voice for a moment, enough to set Harry off.

He, however, did not take the bait, and kept on the pressure, “Or maybe Malfoy needed your assistance one last time before you’re thrown into Azkaban for good.”

Umbridge paled considerably at the mention of the wizarding prison, and her eyes averted to Harry’s wand, now lying on the table to his right. Harry picked up on that and smiled, twirling it in his hand.

“Now now, you wouldn’t want to add another ten years to your sentence by attacking an Auror, now would you?” he teased. He concentrated on the power flowing through his veins, and conjured a ball of flame on the palm of her hand, “You know how that would end for you, don’t you?” Even though she was clearly startled, she did not flinch.

“Yes,” she conceded reluctantly, pursing her lips. Harry noticed that even Abby seemed to have shrunk down as the ball of fire glowed dimly.

“Right, so how about you start talking?” said Abby, still eyeing the mysterious ball of flame on Harry’s hand. When no answer was forthcoming, Harry slammed his fist on the table, leaving a sizeable scorch mark where it had landed.

“Okay, I will,” she announced, dejectedly looking at the mark on the table.

“Good,” Harry said, sitting back down and crossing his arms.

“I was never allowed into headquarters, much less the inner circle,” she explained, “but I know Lucius had a plan to kidnap your wife in the event that one of us would get captured.”

“What, to use as leverage?” asked Abby, intrigued.

“That I do not know,” she told them, shrugging, “The only thing I know is they will now stop the attacks temporarily.”

“Why would they do that?” inquired Abby.

“Again, I’m just the messenger.”

‘Then what is the purpose of this? Why are you taunting me specifically?’ asked Harry.

Umbridge looked at the man in front of her and cowered under his intense gaze. Sighing, she confessed, “Lucius is under the impression that by killing you, the Dark Lord will be reborn once more.”

“Then he’s stupider than we thought,” Harry affirmed, “That is not how it works.”

“That’s what I told him, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s deluded,” she said, “and the others seem to be happy to follow him.”

“And you’re not?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows, “I find that hard to believe.”

“I’d much rather follow anyone else, thank you very much, but he’s one of the only Death Eaters still left standing,” she informed him, shrugging him off.

After thirty minutes of prodding, Umbridge had spilt all the information Harry and Abby could get out of her. They called for the Magical Law Enforcers to take her away and sat down to analyze the new data they had gathered. They were in for a very long night, Harry thought.

Days passed, and the half-blood killers had indeed stopped their murder spree. Although it was a big success for the Department, Harry did not like the price he had had to pay for the ceasefire. He spent most of the following days holed up in his office, attempting to find a flaw in the killers’ plans. So far, he had come up empty, and it was getting on his nerves.

­­ **\--**

On the other side of the country, two weeks prior, Ginny hazily awoke from what she assumed had been a Stunning spell. She opened her eyes slowly and squinted into the darkness. There was nothing around her that would tell her where she was, or what had happened. Rubbing the back of her head, she sat up and looked around.

She was in a small rectangular room, its stone walls covered in ivy on certain spots. A very small barred window shed the limited amount of moonlight into the otherwise pitch black darkness. Her first instinct was to reach for her wand in her pocket, but it was gone. Of course, whoever had taken her had also snatched her wand.

“Figures,” she breathed.

She walked about the room, inspecting the stone blocks of the walls. It was then that she noticed an iron door opposite the window. It had an even smaller window of its own, also barred. She tried to look through it, but everything beyond the confines of the door seemed hazy. Seeing no other option, she banged on the iron door as hard as she could. The loud clang of the door rang across the hallway beyond, echoing against its cavernous walls.

Several minutes later, the door was opened rather suddenly, and a figure emerged from the shadows. Before she could react, Ginny was thrown across the room and magically bound to a set of chains that had appeared on the wall. She looked up and saw Lucius Malfoy standing over her, smirking at the state of his prisoner.

“Well well well,” he snarled, “What have we here?”

Infuriated, Ginny spat of Malfoy’s face, fighting the urge to scream as the chains tightened around her wrists. Malfoy glared at the redhead and promptly backhanded her.

“You really should be nicer to me,” he said, wiping his face with a handkerchief, “I am the only reason you’re alive.”

“Funny, I thought you were the reason I’m chained up,” she spat, glaring daggers in his direction.

“Be that as it may, my... associates weren’t so keen on keeping you alive.”

“You must be some sort of saint, then,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Another slap came forth, and Ginny had to restrain herself from spitting on his face again. She took a moment to look at her captor for a second. Light stubble covered the lower half of his face, and his eyes had heavy bags under them. His usually immaculate pale blond hair was matted with dirt and grime. In short, he was a mess.

“Looking a little worse for wear, Malfoy?” she mocked, smirking despite her current situation.

“Silence!” he yelled, “I need to ask you some questions.”

“If you think I’m telling you anything, you’re even dumber than I thought,” she spat. “I don’t even know what you want.”

“Oh, I have my ways,” he leered.

Malfoy waved his wand once and the restraints holding Ginny to the wall disappeared, letting her fall to the dirty floor. Lacking the strength to fight an armed man, she decided staying put was her best choice. She knew he wouldn’t kill her. She was too valuable. _He’s just desperate,_ she thought.

“Now,” he started, taking her face in his hand and pulling her up, “How did he do it?”

“How did who do what?” she asked nonchalantly, earning another smack across her face. She didn’t mind, though. She knew she was getting on his nerves.

“How did Potter defeat the Dark Lord?” he asked once more, anger rising in his throat.

“How should I know? I didn’t see him for a year before the Battle, I don’t know what he was doing,” she told him, hoping that would be enough. Although he did not ask again, he did throw her across the room. Landing on her back, she sat up, not willing to break. Bile went up to her throat, and she willed it down.

He pointed his wand menacingly at her and spoke, “Then you are of no use to us, for now.” Ginny’s eyes opened wide and she moved her arms to her abdomen, as dread filled her insides. With another wave, Malfoy cried, “CRUCIO!”

She had never experienced that much pain in her life. It felt as though every inch of her body was being stabbed with daggers, and this time she could not fight the urge to scream. Her screaming and thrashing echoed in the cavernous cell, and she could feel her consciousness leaving her before Malfoy lifted the curse.

“That ought to give you an incentive,” he sneered, conjuring another set of chains to restrain his prisoner. Without a backwards glance, he left the cell and locked the door behind him.

Weakly looking up, Ginny let out a single tear as the receding pain of the curse started to leave her body. Before finally fainting, she closed her eyes and prayed that Harry would find her, and soon.


	31. Chapter 31

Days passed, and Ginny was still steadfastly refusing to bend to Malfoy’s will. She still held the belief that her husband would find her and forced herself to remain strong against Lucius Malfoy. Every day, a different Death Eater would come into her cell and ask the standard questions. How had Harry defeated Voldemort? What were his weaknesses? She was sick of it, to be honest.

Of course, she would never give up whatever information she had, so she remained quiet throughout most days. This silence warranted torture, of course, in the form of the Cruciatus Curse. Writhing in pain, Ginny would take solace in the fact that she might foil their plans if she died. Despite her attitude, she didn’t really want to die; not now that her life was just starting to take another turn for the better.

Two weeks had passed since her abduction – or at least that’s if she hadn’t miscounted – and Lucius was getting impatient, much to her limited entertainment. She could tell he was desperate by the look of annoyance her silence put on his face. Today, though, he seemed to be even more so. She was awoken by the clang of the iron door slamming open, and the tall lanky figure of Lucius Malfoy looming over her.

“Get up,” he demanded, yanking her up to a sitting position. Her fatigue was killing her and she fought very hard to remain in that position. It would not do to show weakness now. “Here you go,” he spat, conjuring a plate of very questionable food on the floor in front of her.

Had it not been for the laughable amounts of food she had been getting, she would have refused profusely. But now, she forced herself to accept the meal, ravishing it in front of her captor. Despite the lack of a mirror or reflective surface, she could feel her cheeks were starting to become gaunt. Her hair was matted with dirt and grime and, after weeks of not showering, she smelled horrible.

“Such a waste,” he drawled, smirking at the hunched figure of Ginny, “You’re feisty, I will give you that.”

Ginny chose to remain silent, as all responses she could think of would surely earn her another round of torture. Malfoy took no notice and started pacing the room as she ate. Ginny looked around and examined her temporary living situation. Bones of small animals littered the floor in the darkest corners, ivy wound its way through the cracks in the stone walls, and the sole source of light was the torch that was stationed right outside the cell.

The second Ginny had devoured the last remnants of the food, Malfoy vanished the plate and slowly knelt beside her, twirling his wand in his hands as if to assert his dominance over her.

“You already know what I want, and you know exactly how to stop this,” he told her, “Now, I will only ask this once. How did your husband defeat the Dark Lord?” he said very slowly.

“What makes you think,” she said, wincing from the pain of sitting up straight, “that I would know how he did it?”

“Simple, we know how much he loves you,” he said in a contemptuous tone as if the mere idea of it made him sick. Ginny let out a throaty chuckle.

“You really are grasping at straws, aren’t you?” she teased, earning a slap in the face.

“Silence, girl,” he yelled, “It doesn’t matter anyway. Soon it will be over,” he added.

“What do you mean?” she asked, a tinge of fear leaking into her voice.

“If you won’t tell us what we want, you might as well be useful in some other way,” he told her, grinning at the discomfort he was causing in her.

“What will you do?” she asked again, clutching her stomach once more as Malfoy waved her wand at her.

“Crucio!” Ginny screamed in pain as the spell coursed through her veins. As quickly as it came, the curse was gone.

“You see, silly girl, sooner or later Potter will find you,” he told her, “and when he does, he will die; and the Dark Lord will be reborn once more.”

Ginny gulped as Malfoy’s words sank in and, placing a hand on her stomach as the pain subsided, prayed that Harry knew what he was doing. For some reason, something inside her told her he didn’t know what he was getting into.

**\--**

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Abby asked Harry as they made their way up the steps of the Manor.

“What other choice do I have, Abby?” he retorted, rather impatiently. They had been over the evidence and Harry could see no other clear solution.

“I know, Harry, but these people were not exactly on our side of the war four years ago,” she reminded him.

“They’ve changed, I know it,” he said, mostly to himself. He knocked on the ornate door and waited for a response. The door had ornate, intricate woodwork. The frame seemed to be made out of gold, glittering in the waning sunlight.

Almost two minutes later, the door swung open and Draco Malfoy stood in front of Harry. The blonde man studied Harry silently for a moment before stepping aside and letting them through the threshold without a word. Abby raised an eyebrow at Malfoy, before entering behind Harry.

The inside of the Manor had changed quite a bit since the last time Harry had been there. Granted, he had seen the common room for a short time and then been sent to the cellar, but he could tell. The atmosphere in the room, for instance, felt much lighter. The place no longer seemed gloomy, and natural light bathed them through the high-standing windows.

Draco gestured for them to sit on the chairs in front of a coffee table, and Harry and Abby warily did so. After a short staring contest, Harry broke the silence.

“Thank you for seeing us, Draco,” he said politely. He had figured long ago that the best he would ever get with Draco was a polite acquaintance, and he was fine by it.

“No problem,” the blond man replied, snapping his fingers and calling forth a small house elf and instructing him to bring them tea. “I heard about Ginny,” he said simply.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here actually,” answered Harry, trying to keep his tone calm in what was likely one of the worst months of his life.

“What makes you think I could help you in any way?” asked Draco, curtly taking the cup of tea his house elf offered him and waving him away.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked over at Abby for support. He had debated how to approach the subject, as it was sure to be a sensitive one for his House rival. Harry’s partner sensed his discomfort and spared him the pain of having to ask the questions.

“Because the leader of the group that took Ginny is your father,” she finally said, rather abruptly.

Draco did a double take at the mention of his father, but recovered just as fast and snorted softly, “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he replied, shaking his head in disgust. Harry noticed this and wondered just how much Draco knew of the atrocities his father had committed both before and after the war.

“Do you have any idea where he might be hiding?” Abby pressed, inching forward on her seat, “Any hideouts of his that you’d know about?”

Draco thought about it for a moment and pursed his lips. “I haven’t been in contact with my father since a month after the Battle,” he confessed, “and any and all known hideouts of his have already been searched thoroughly. By your people, might I add.”

“Do you think he might be inclined to speak to you if you reached out to him?” Abby asked. Harry stayed silent for the duration of the questioning, looking both at the decoration in the room and the two people having the conversation, unsure of what to focus on.

Harry noticed that the painting of the Malfoy family, which had hung from above the mantelpiece the day he had been imprisoned here, was gone. It had been replaced with framed pictures of Draco and Narcissa, and another of Draco with another woman Harry couldn’t quite place. He knew she had been at Hogwarts while he was a student, and guessed she must be one or two years younger than Draco and him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Draco audibly snorted and stifled a laugh, “Do you really think he’ll talk to me?” he asked, “He practically disowned me the day he left the Manor. One of his lackeys tracked me down to St. Mungo’s around two years ago and tried to recruit me for my Father’s little militia.”

“Did you recognize the man?” Harry asked this time, leaning forward himself, anxious to get some meaningful information.

“Unfortunately, no,” he said apologetically, “He had a mask on and I couldn’t place the voice. He must have been a new addition, though,” he supplied.

Frustrated, Harry ran his hands through his already messy hair, grumbling to himself. It was getting harder every day to keep a calm exterior, and he was slowly exhausting every option he could think of to find his wife. Reluctantly, he took the cup of tea offered by the small house elf and took a sip of it.

“I’m actually sorry I can’t do much to help,” Draco said suddenly. Harry’s head shot up and he gave the blond man a questioning look, which Draco returned with a nod, “Too many people have suffered at the hands of my father and it’s not really fair that it should be you again.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, thank you,” said Harry lamely, looking down at his hands.

Draco nodded and stood up, decidedly instructing the elf to show his guests to the door. Rather put out by Draco’s sudden need to get rid of them, Harry and Abby reluctantly followed the elf out and Apparated back to the Ministry.

That night, Harry and Mary were unexpectedly visited by Bill and his family. When he opened the door, Harry was almost knocked off his feet by a flurry of silvery blonde hair. When he recovered, Vee stood over him with a big smile on her face. At two years old, she already had a favourite uncle, and she made sure to show it every opportunity she got.

“Uncle Harry!” she squealed, helping him up while her father tousled her hair.

“Hey, Vee!” he exclaimed, chuckling softly. He kissed her cheek and looked back at her father.

“Sorry to just drop by, Harry, but we thought maybe you’d need some company,” said Bill, nodding at the table, where Mary sat with a small smile looking at her honorary cousins.

“Plus, I hear Kreacher makes the best meatloaf in ze world,” piped Fleur, carrying a sleeping Dominique in her arms.

“Sure, go ahead,” said Harry stepping back so they could pass, “Have a seat and I’ll talk to Kreacher about dinner.”

While Harry walked into the kitchen, Mary welcomed their guests into the living room.

“Hey, Fleur,” she said to the blonde woman, who smiled back at the girl, “How has Domi been?” she asked, peering at the baby over her glasses.

“Oh, she’s been a treat,” Fleur confessed, “She’s a very quiet girl.”

“Ginny used to be that way too,” Bill said before he could stop himself. Upon saying his missing sister’s name, his scarred features contorted into a sad smile.

Sensing a need to change the subject, Mary clapped her small hands and led the Weasleys into the living room. As Bill and Fleur took their seats, Vee set out to explore every inch of the spacious room, peering over everything in awe. She was a curious kid, Harry gathered.

Mary sat down opposite Bill and gave him a sad smile to mimic his own, “How are you holding up?’ she asked him sweetly.

Sighing, Bill let his shoulders hunch and buried his head in his hands, “It’s horrible. I keep imagining her in a dark cell, away from her family and friends, and I just...” he trailed off, tears threatening to break surface with his eyes.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything else,” Mary said, placing a small hand on his scarred forearm. Mary noticed that, like Harry, Bill also had bags under his eyes.

“I can’t even imagine what Harry must be going through,” he continued, glancing at the kitchen door, where Harry’s and Kreacher’s voices could be barely heard.

“He’s...” started Mary, frowning in search for words, “lost. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s almost as if he has lost all purpose in life.”

“Poor thing,” exclaimed Fleur, who was caressing Domi’s head gently.

Their conversation was cut short as Harry entered the living room and sat down across from Fleur on the loveseat. The part-Veela gave him a tired smile, which he returned with effort.

“Dinner will be ready in about five minutes,” he announced, putting on his best smile and joining into the conversation. After that awkward transition, they shared a rather pleasant evening, considering the circumstances.

Even with constant visits from the Weasleys, Harry could not shake the fact that his search was becoming a wild goose chase with no discernible end on the horizon. He was working day and night to find something that might help them track down Malfoy and his goons. So far, his only lead, Draco, had been a bust.

Two days after Bill and Fleur’s visit, he stood by the hearth, examining his and Ginny’s wedding photo late at night. She kept smiling and blowing kisses at him, which made him smile despite himself. He had teased her about it, although she always claimed she had never made such a gesture. Nonetheless, it was comforting for him.

“It’s okay to cry, Harry,” a soft voice, barely above a whisper, issued from behind him. He turned around to see Mary standing in front of him, a worried expression on her face.

“What good will that do?” he asked, setting the photo down and taking a seat.

“Well,” she said, grasping for the right words, “It helps you cope with loss, and channel your frustration,” Mary explained.

“Did you read that in a book?” he asked, unable to keep the smirk from creeping onto his face.

Rolling his eyes, Mary sat down on the couch. “Yes,” she admitted. “That doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I’m not the crying type,” he rebuked, harsher than he meant. She didn’t seem to mind his tone, though.

“Why not? I’ve never met anyone who cried as little as you do,” she asked in a sweet tone to compete with his own. Under her curious gaze, he sighed and looked up into her green eyes.

‘Have I ever told you the story of my pet turtle?” he asked her suddenly. Taken aback, she shook her head slowly. _Where is he getting at?_

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, when I was about seven years old, I found a turtle on a school trip we took to a nearby beach. From the tracks leading to the shore, I gathered at the time that he had been left behind by his brothers and sisters. It was tiny like I was, so I decided that it needed a home.” He breathed deeply. “Like I did.”

“You brought a turtle to your Uncle’s house?” she said, stifling a giggle. Harry nodded and continued,

“I was half your age, give me a break,” he said, breaking the smallest of smiles for a moment. “Anyway, I tucked the tiny turtle under my shirt and got home. I didn’t know where to put it, so I let it crawl around in my room for a while.”

“The broom closet...” Mary said bitterly. Harry loved how protective his ward was of him, even when he spoke of his past.

“That’s right. Whenever I got the chance I fed her pieces of lettuce that I managed to hide under my oversized sleeves, gathered from the remains of Dudley’s plates. My friendship with the small turtle lasted a mere three days, but I felt a strong connection to it. It had been discarded and left to fend for itself, just like I had felt since I had been left on the Dursley’s doorstep.”

“What happened to it?” asked Mary, almost afraid of what the answer may be.

“What always happened,” Harry answered rather bitterly, “Uncle Vernon found it, and made me watch as he gave it to Dudley. My cousin launched it over the garden wall into a neighbouring house and I knew it had died then.”

“When I started crying, my Uncle backhanded me and gave me a stern look. He said I shouldn’t cry because that makes us weak, and weak people would never make it in this world. I lost my food privileges for three days straight after that incident, and that same night I cried myself to sleep,” he explained.

“That day, the fight had gone out of me. That was the moment I realised no one was coming to save me; no one would get me away from my family, and I would have to live with that.”

As Harry told his story, Mary sat cross-legged on the couch, listening with rapt attention to every word he said. As he reached the end of it, tears welled up in her eyes, and she couldn’t even fight the urge to launch herself to him and embrace him.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” was all she could muster between her own sobs. It was heart-warming for Harry, knowing his daughter, in all ways but one, could care so much for his wellbeing after knowing him for three years.

“It’s okay, little one,” he assured her, stroking her blond hair and kissing the top of her head, “that was a long time ago, and I know better now than to think my life is what I imagined as a kid.”

“But then, why won’t you let yourself cry?” she asked, “Why can’t you let yourself feel and let out some of what you have been bottling up for the past two weeks? Merlin knows you deserve it.”

“Because then I would be confirming all my fears. My fear that I’ll never see Ginny again, that even after sacrificing everything for the war, I still lost my wife to the same world that I gave my life to destroy,” he exclaimed, shaking from the adrenaline going through his body. Mary held him all the same, turning the gesture back on him.

“Ever since that night at the graveyard, my life has been a living hell. Lately, I thought I could turn it around by sheer force of will, but I’m just not strong enough,” he let out, letting his shoulders hunch and holding onto his ward.

“It’s not fair, little one,” he breathed, barely audible. “It’s not fair...” he said, unbidden tears rolling down his cheeks. Holding onto her, he was reminded of the beautiful life he still had. His wife, who he would not give up on; Mary, who had shown a strength greater than he could have imagined in the past couple of years; his family, who had shown him nothing but kindness throughout his troubled youth.

His home... _Home_ , his thoughts screamed at him.

“Wait a minute!” Harry exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing furiously at his eyes, “That’s it! His home!”

Startled, Mary looked at his guardian in confusion, expecting a lengthier explanation for the outburst. “What are you talking about, Harry?”

“I know where Malfoy has Ginny!” he almost shouted, beaming with joy. Mary hid her scepticism and hugged Harry fiercely.

“That’s amazing, Harry!” she exclaimed, “But how do you know?”

“It’s all so simple, I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out. Malfoy never was the brightest Death Eater.” At Mary’s look of confusion, Harry elaborated, “We’ve been thinking he’d hide her in one of the many known hideouts he has all over the country, but Draco has already said they’ve been searched.”

“So? How does that lead you to the place, which you still haven’t told me...?” she urged impatiently.

“Right, sorry. She’s at Little Hangleton! That’s Tom Riddle Senior’s childhood home and the place where Voldemort was resurrected six years ago.”

“But how do you know he’s keeping her there?” she asked.

“Think about it,” he said, pacing the room rapidly. “Lucius Malfoy was there when Voldemort came back. He was extremely devout of his master, and we know from Umbridge that he’s attempting to bring him back... somehow.”

“Is that even possible?” Mary inquired, frowning at the thought.

“No, trust me,” he assured her, shaking his head. “But Lucius seems to think it is, and he definitely needs a base of operations or whatever. With all his little hideouts gone, what better place than the graveyard Voldemort was _actually_ brought back six years ago.”

“Harry, that’s brilliant!” she exclaimed, fixing her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“I’m just happy we have a lead now,” he said, racing for the door and grabbing his coat from the hanger.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mary asked in a tone that would have Molly Weasley beaming with pride.

“I’m going to get my wife back!” Harry told her as if she were crazy to suggest otherwise.

“Harry, you’re exhausted, and you haven’t slept well in days. If Malfoy really does have her locked up in Little Hangleton, he won’t risk moving her to another place,” she reasoned. “You said it yourself, he’s not smart enough to know you’re onto him. You can’t do everything on your own,” she reminded him.

“So I should let her rot in her cell until I’m well rested?” he demanded, offended that he should even consider such an option.

“You know I don’t mean that,” she reminded him, placing her hands on her hips, “but going in with no backup, no plan, and barely any energy left in you will result in you dying and her rotting in that cell for a while longer.”

Harry caught himself before he answered, and looked down at the ground. He wanted to go now and finish what Lucius had started, but he knew Mary was right. He was in no condition to duel, and he didn’t know how many people he would have to take on.

Reluctantly, he nodded in agreement and followed her back inside. Once they were at the foot of the stairs, Harry smiled down at her and hugged her one more time.

“I’m glad I have you, little one,” he told her.

“Me too,” she replied, burrowing her head into the embrace.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know,” she said sheepishly. Looking up into his determined eyes, which had recovered that spark that Mary had thought lost, she smiled. “We’re going to get her back, Harry.”

Harry embraced her tighter and for a moment, he dared to hope. “I know.”


	32. Chapter 32

The following morning, thimble rays of light broke through the curtains and onto Harry’s face. Mary had let him sleep in so he would be well rested for what was to come. Rolling lazily in his bed, he reached over Ginny’s spot for his wand resting at the bedside table. With a flick of his wrist, the blinds rolled up, letting the late morning sun through, casting elongated shadows on his covers.

Feeling revitalised, he rushed to the bathroom and took a shower, all the while thinking of Ginny. _I might get her back today,_ he thought gleefully, all too aware of the fact that it might also be a wild goose chase. He didn’t care though, and, as he got dressed and climbed down the stairs, he dared to let himself hope.

Mary was already up and about in the kitchen, helping Kreacher and Winky with breakfast. When he entered, the small witch looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile, which he returned.

“Morning, Harry,” she said as she scrambled some eggs. “Kreacher and I thought you would need all your strength today.”

“Thank you, little one,” he said, sitting down at the small kitchen table and thanking Winky when she handed him a cup of tea. “How long have you been up?”

“Not very long,” she responded, shrugging. “I figured you needed some extra sleep, so I didn’t bother you.”

Harry chuckled and bit into a piece of toast Kreacher set on the table. The small elf gave him a small grin and sat down beside his master, digging into a plate of scrambled eggs. Harry was glad the elf was getting more comfortable with the idea of being treated like an equal, and he smiled at the thought of Hermione seeing this with her own eyes.

Ten minutes later, Harry bid Mary and the elves goodbye and walked out of the house, Apparating to the Ministry. It was almost midday. Once at the Law Enforcement Department, Harry noticed Abby and Robards deep in conversation at his desk. There was not much activity around the office, he noticed, yet his boss seemed to be tense.

When Harry walked in, Robards gestured at him and Abby turned to greet him.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, her face softening. “We thought maybe something had happened to you.”

“Sorry, I overslept,” he said truthfully, leaving his coat on a hanger by his desk. Suddenly, he remembered why he was here in the first place. “Abby, I think I know where Ginny is,” he said.

Abby’s eyes went wide, as did Robards’s, and the demanded a full explanation. Harry nodded and walked them through his thought process, noticing their apprehension. As he finished, an excited expression on his face, Abby’s pursed her lips.

“Harry, are you sure you’re not jumping to conclusions?” she asked, not unkindly. “I mean, Malfoy wouldn’t be dense enough to set up camp at his master’s old hiding place, would he?”

“I’m counting on it,” Harry said, before realising how unconvincing that sounded. “Abby, trust me, I know how Lucius thinks,” he pleaded.

Tightening her lips, Abby sighed. She looked back at Robards, who still wore a hesitant frown. “I trust him, boss,” she said, nodding. “His hunches are usually right, anyway.”

Robards seemed to consider her words and decided arguing was of no use. With a nod, he beckoned them to his office and closed the door behind him. On the desk, Harry noticed a framed picture of a small girl on a broom, zooming through the air in full Quidditch gear. The two Aurors took a seat as their boss leaned on the desk.

“If you’re really thinking of storming the place, we can’t just barge in in broad daylight,” he began.

“We, sir?” Harry asked.

“Yes, we.” Robards crossed his arms and nodded. “I can’t expect you two to go in there alone, so I’ll take McGregor and we’ll be your backup. Believe it or not, I also want to see these bastards behind bars. We’ll go there tonight at sunset.”

The black-haired man thought better than to argue. Taking Abby was one thing, but risking more lives irked him the wrong way. Swallowing his pride, the trio called McGregor into the room and together they set out to devise a plan of attack. Through her connections to the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, Abby was able to acquire a plan of Riddle mansion.

It was a two-storey building, with multiple entrances they could use as entry points. The house itself stood on a hill just outside Little Hangleton, barely two hundred yards from the graveyard Harry had been transported to in his fourth year. They discussed their options for the better part of the evening.

A few minutes before dusk, the foursome set out to the Apparition point and travelled to the outskirts of a small town alive with activity. From the cluster of buildings of the town, they could see lights flickering on as the sunlight began to fade into nothingness. To the other side was their target; a large mansion sitting atop an overgrown hill, the gate at the entrance rusted after years of disrepair.

As they slowly walked up the path to the house, Harry remembered the dream he’d had before his fourth year, where he had seen this same path from the eyes of one Frank Bryce. He remembered the dread, the fear, the horror that old man had felt as he stumbled upon Wormtail and his master; the flash of green light that still haunted his worst nightmares.

Now, he felt only determination. Lucius Malfoy had messed with the one thing Harry valued above all else, and he would make him pay for it dearly. He was pulled out of his thoughts when they approached one of the south doors, which led to a room separated from most of the house by a large dining room. Abby beckoned him forward and he inspected the door.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, yet even _Alohomora_ could not open the lock. _Damn it_ , he thought bitterly. “They must have locked it with some dark spell or something.”

“Pretty concise,” said McGregor, who help up the rear. Harry shot him a menacing glare and turned back to the door, trying to figure out a way in.

“Couldn’t we just Apparate in?” Abby suggested. “It’s just a Muggle house, after all.”

“Already tried it,” Robards said, shaking his head. “They’ve warded this place pretty good. Let’s hope they don’t have detection charms too.”

Frustrated, Harry let out a growl under his breath. _Does this shit ever end?_ he thought. As the group assessed the situation, he saw Abby tiptoe towards the window and peer through it. Her eyes searched the inside, probably looking for something they could use. Unfortunately, the glass had been magically reinforced.

“Hey, Harry?” she said suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you say your phoenix form can do that Flaming thing?”

Harry’s eyes went wide and he slapped his forehead for being so dense. Thanking Abby, he closed his eyes and turned into a phoenix, standings majestically between the three Aurors. Peering into the window, he inspected the room beyond. It was small and devoid of decorations, the only piece of furniture being a small coat rack beside the opposite door. A mudroom, he gathered.

He gave them all a gentle nod before raising his wings and disappearing in a flash of fire. He reappeared seconds later in the mudroom, shaking his head. A scorch mark lines the floor beneath him. From the silence that ensued, he figured they had placed no detection charm he knew of. _Weird_ , he thought.

Once he made sure it was safe, he Flamed back outside and transformed into his human form again.

“I think the coast is clear,” he breathed. “I’ll take you inside with me, one at a time.”

“Great,” said Abby.

She was the first to volunteer. Harry turned back into a phoenix and the woman took hold of the feather he presented to her. Raising his wings again, he transported both of them into the house. Abby stumbled for a moment before regaining her balance and giving Harry a thumbs-up. He did the same with Robards and McGregor.

Once inside, the four Aurors slowly opened the door that led to the dining room, where they knew they would have access to most of the house’s main hallways. Surprisingly, they saw no one to offer them opposition, which struck Harry as odd. They surely had heard them coming in, even if they weren’t showing themselves. He held his wand at the ready.

The dining room was a large auditorium-like space. A large rectangular table filled the centre of the room, ornate mahogany chairs lining its sides. There was a hearth on one side of the room, its logs burnt to a crisp, unfeeling. Not even embers remained. The space itself was dark. Moonlight was the only source of light, bathing the room with an eerie silvery glow, asserting its dominance. It was a full moon, he noted, suddenly sad.

The four of them approached the door they know would lead to the main staircase, a large flounder of steps that wound its way through the edges of the main lobby of the mansion. This was where they parted ways. Robards and McGregor wished Harry and Abby good luck, and made their way through the door and up the stairs, taking the first floor for themselves. Harry and Abby were left to search the ground floor, wands at the ready.

They walked silently through a long hallway that led to a sitting room. In it were a number of ancient-looking chairs and couches. A withered carpet decorated the floor in the centre of the room, moth-eaten and dusty. The furniture, however, was not the only thing rotten in the room.

On the other side of the room, Harry could make out two figures in the shadows. He was almost too late as two flashes of red light shot at them from the dark and he deflected them both. From the corner of the room jumped two hooded men, one large and the other quite lanky, their arms outstretched as they each cast hexes.

“ _Reducto!_ ”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Harry and Abby jumped out of the way, taking cover behind two loveseats beside yet another hearth. The _Reducto_ curse hit a large painting of what Harry assumed to be the Riddles that hung above the fireplace, shattering it into pieces. Peering over the chair, Harry shot a flurry of Stunning spells blindly, hoping against hope that they’d hit their mark.

The men lurched to cover as well, the fatter one grunting as he hit the floor. Harry saw the opportunity and stood up, training his wand where he assumed the men would be. With the lack of a window, the darkness was suffocating. A flash of green light shot from one of the darkest corners, and Harry could barely summon a rather large bust to take the blow before it hit him square in the chest. The shorter man took Harry’s misstep as a chance and shouted, “ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

Much to his dismay, Harry could not counter the curse in time. The spell hit him on the side, and he collapsed onto the floor with a thud. He heard one of the men cheer as yet another flash of green light cast sickening shadows onto the ceiling. Harry could not see what was happening, and he berated himself for being so stupid. Suddenly, another shout was heard. This one belonged to his boss, Robards.

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

“ _Petrificus Totalus,_ ” yelled Abby from their side of the room, probably taking advantage of their boss’s appearance to strike the finishing blow.

For a few seconds, all he could hear were the laboured breaths of his fellow Aurors, before Abby said, “ _Finite,_ ” and he finally regained control of his body.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding and standing up. She gave him a weak smile.

In front of them, though it was hard to see through the dim light their wands cast, Robards and McGregor took a moment to breathe. McGregor had a small gash above his eyebrow, and the older man’s sleeve was starting to become a sickly maroon, spanning from the edge of his sleeve to just below his shoulder. He winced as he moved his wand to his right arm.

“You okay, Robards?” Harry asked, concerned.

“This? It’s nothing,” Robards said, waving it off with his good hand. “I always say, if you don’t almost lose a limb, it’s not a successful mission.”

Chuckling at the jest, Harry nodded and led the group through a hallway and into the main lobby of the house, from where two grand staircases led to the first floor. Before they had any time to take in the ornate statues and ancient paintings, another flash of light issued from behind them, making them scatter and look for cover. He was suddenly reminded of Moody’s life motto; _Constant vigilance._

Luckily for them, a hallway stood to the left of the room, like the mouth of a monster ready to devour them into the depths of the mansion. Robards and McGregor took cover as they kept exchanging hexes and curses with the Death Eaters atop the staircases. The only sound that could be heard was that of grunting men and shattering furniture.

Harry stood to the side, looking for a window to fire a well-placed Stunning spell. Unfortunately, the men held their ranks tightly, four feet apart of each other, firing spells at will. One of them hit a statue that stood to their right and blew it to pieces, dust raining down on them.

“Potter, you gotta go look for Ginny!” Robards said over the racket, firing a barrage of Stunning spells, none of which hit their mark. “They probably have some sort of dungeon or basement in here.”

Peering over Robards’s shoulder, he saw no way to defeat the Death Eaters and knew Robards was right. It was now or never. Nodding decisively at his boss, he made his way through the dimly lit hallway, picking up the pace. After opening four doors that led nowhere, he came across a set of double doors that grabbed his attention.

It looked nothing like the rest of the house, almost as if it didn’t belong there. Everything, from the hinges at its sides to the brass handles, looked out of place. What really called Harry’s attention was the intricate woodwork on its surface, depicting two large snakes poised for attack. Hesitantly, he turned one of the knobs and opened the door.

The door led to a set of large steps. The stone was cracked in some places, making it seem hundreds of years old. The walls were made of worn-down cobblestone, its cracks filled with ivy from what seemed like years of disrepair. The steps descended for what felt like an eternity but were probably just two minutes. When he reached the bottom, Harry hesitated to light his wand. _Malfoy might see me coming_ , he thought.

He slowly walked forward into the pitch black hallway before a thought occurred to him. Using his heightened phoenix senses, he could see the hallway with clarity. It was a winding path, the floor made of packed earth. The walls seemed to close in on him as if they could sense he was an intruder. Even with his enhanced hearing, the only sound in the otherwise silent space was the dripping water protruding from exposed pipes all along the edge between the walls and the ceiling.

After a few minutes of silent walking with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him, he spotted a heavy iron door with a small barred window at head level, opened barely a crack. Hesitantly, he put his weight into the metal surface and opened it fully. Inside, it seemed to be empty.

It was a rectangular room covered in a mixture of moss and cobwebs, only slightly smaller than Mary’s room back at his house. Scattered around the room were small animal bones. A foul stench emanated from a corner, and Harry hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was. On the wall opposite the door, beneath a larger barred window, was a set of manacles and chains. Beneath it was a pool of dried blood, and anger rose within Harry. _That’s Ginny’s,_ he thought. He didn’t know how, but he knew it was true.

Rushing out of the room, he picked up the pace and continued his way down the hallway. It wasn’t much longer until he saw yet another set of double doors. He was surprised to find their pattern resembled two large bears at odds with each other, their teeth bared and their claws sharp. Heaving a sigh, he braced for the worst and pushed the door open.

It took a second for him to get accustomed to the new lighting, which seemed to be emanating from a single ceiling lamp, hanging loosely from a chain. Beneath the light, however, was the thing he’d dreaded the most.

Tied to a wooden chair, unconscious, was Ginny. She had scars along her freckled forearms and bruises all along her neck. Bile built up in his throat, and he stepped forward. He stopped in his tracks when he heard a drawling voice coming from the shadows, seemingly booming yet rough.

“So, come at last, the mighty Harry Potter,” Lucius Malfoy said in a bored tone, stepping into the sheen of the light.

Harry looked the man up and down, taking in his appearance. His formerly immaculate clothes were now shabby and worn-in, seemingly too large for him. His blonde hair was matted with grime, and his beard was badly unkempt. The eyes that had once looked at him with suspicion were now bloodshot, full of malice as they scanned the dark-haired wizard. In short, he looked a mess.

“Lucius,” Harry said in a low growl, reaching for the wand in his pocket.

“No, no, no, Potter,” the older man drawled, drawing his own wand and pointing it at Ginny’s throat. “I don’t think that’s something you want to do, now, do you?”

His eye twitching in anger, Harry reluctantly raised his hand, away from his wand. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sounds around him. A rat was scurrying through the floor to his right, a pipe leaked a few drops of water every few seconds on the opposite side of the room, and Ginny’s heart beat strong as ever. He gave a sigh of relief. _I’m getting you out of here, Ginny._ Fearing the heat radiating from his body would result in Lucius hurting Ginny, he reluctantly inhibited his senses once more.

“What the hell do you want, Malfoy?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “What could you possibly gain from kidnapping my wife and bringing me here?”

Malfoy’s laugh was a sinister thing. He cackled maniacally as if Harry had just told him the greatest joke of all time. When he recovered, he trained his wand on Harry, who raised his hands reluctantly.

“Poor, sweet Potter,” Malfoy said, cocking his head to the side. “If only you knew what my plans for you and your stupid girl are...” He waved his wand in the air and, in front of him, appeared a large cauldron filled to the brim with a white substance. It foamed gently, stirring slowly.

“What the –,” Harry began, as Lucius waved his wand again and a rotted bone covered in dirt appeared out of nowhere above the cauldron, dropping into its contents. The substance hissed violently, sending red sparks into the air.

“Once you and your Auror friends, your corpse shall serve as the vessel for the Dark Lord’s return,” Malfoy exclaimed, almost to himself rather than Harry. “He will reward me; his faithful servant.”

 _He’s completely lost it,_ Harry thought ruefully.

“Malfoy, that’s not ho-.”

“SILENCE!” snapped Lucius, pointing his wand at him, his hand shaking slightly. _He’s desperate._

Before he could act on it, another voice broke through the otherwise silent atmosphere. It was soft and distant, yet it was getting closer, Harry knew.

“Harry!” the voice said, and Harry’s stomach dropped.

Seconds later, the door slammed open and Abby burst through it, wand in hand. She took barely a second to assess the situation and shot a Stunning spell at Malfoy. The man deflected it easily, almost bored. Spell after spell Abby sent flying his way, yet Malfoy was unfazed. After a moment, the man smiled maniacally.

“Potter, Potter, Potter...” he said slowly, biding his time. He raised his wand at Ginny. “I told you there would be consequences.”

“NO!” Harry roared as he cast a protective charm around his wife, hoping against hope that it would be enough to protect her.

Lucius, unfortunately, had other plans.

Taking advantage of the black-haired man’s confusion, Lucius diverted his aim from the redhead and pointed his wand at Abby, saying, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

The world seemed to move in slow motion, Harry thought. A flash of green light shot from Lucius’s wand, and he was brought back to the nightmares. To the world where time stands still and torture is the only currency. His eyes could scarcely follow the bolt as it hurtled toward the woman, yet his heart knew it was too late.

Stunned, Abby stood in place as the fateful curse hit her square in the chest, launching her against the door, her limp body dropping to the ground, dead. Harry’s stomach sunk, if possible, even deeper as he stood frozen in place. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. _Not again._

Yet, as Malfoy’s voice echoed in the chamber saying, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” and his wand flew from his hand, he knew it could; and it had. He turned back to the blond man, who was now holding two wands, one in each hand, a smirk decorating his already disgusting face. Anger flared inside Harry. A kind of anger he hadn’t felt in a long time, building up inside him like a roaring lion poised to attack.

“Such a pity,” Malfoy said, emotionless “yet, oddly satisfying.”

Harry barely heard him, however. A fire had started within him, consuming every fibre of his being. His eyes stared at Lucius Malfoy, yet his head was elsewhere. Around him, the sounds of the chamber became louder, clearer. The rat had stopped shuffling and was squeaking in terror, unable to get out. Even the dripping water seemed to have shrunk in fear. Ginny’s weak heartbeat gave him hope. And in the middle of it all, Malfoy’s heart beat strong as an oak. A heart-wrenching pain filled his body as he realised Abby’s was not with them anymore...

He turned his attention solely to the blond man, whose smirk had turned into a cackle once more, smiling triumphantly at the defeat of the Boy Who Lived. Again, Harry had ears only for one sound. Malfoy’s heart kept beating faster and faster as a rush of adrenaline followed his laughter. The black-haired man focused his attention on the beating alone until it was the only thing he could hear.

Breathing deeply, he moved his hands in a circular motion, ever so slightly. Malfoy’s smile turned to a grimace, his cackle to gasping. Harry’s hand moved faster, Malfoy’s beating heart in his grasp. Lucius had a moment to look at Harry Potter one last time before the latter said the spell coldly, unfeeling.

“ _Impedimenta._ ”

Suddenly, Lucius’s eyes went wide and his hand clutched the left side of his chest. It was too late, however. As he grasped for breath unsuccessfully, Harry stepped forward for the first time, unafraid. He walked past the dying man without even sparing a glance for him. With a wave of his hand, Ginny’s bindings were broken.

As he held his unconscious wife, the energy that had enveloped him left his body, and a powerful numbness took over him. It didn’t matter, though. _It was finally over._

**\--**

A month later, Harry sat at his desk, absentmindedly writing a report on a piece of parchment. It seemed insignificant to file such reports now, after everything that had happened. _Abby’s dead_ , he thought. She hadn’t even been able to defend herself; just another spare in Harry’s own battle.

Her funeral two weeks ago hadn’t helped at all, as much as he would have liked it to. As soon as he had arrived to pay his respects, he was almost thrown out by Abby’s father, who swore to kill him if he ever saw him again. Had it not been for Abby’s brother, Jonathan, he would have succeeded. The fight had left Harry at that moment, and he knew it was his fault.

_Abby’s dead because of you._

He almost didn’t hear when Robards called him forward into his office, and he dutifully obeyed. Numbly, he sat down on one of the chairs, staring at the picture of the small girl playing Quidditch, only now she was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where she had gone. The office was very sparsely decorated, only a few select pictures lining the otherwise bare walls.

_Abby’s dead because of you, and you did nothing to stop it._

“Harry! Harry!” Robards’s voice cut through his thoughts, startling him. “You okay?”

Harry shook his head but said, “Yeah.”

“I wish I could believe that, son.” The older man leaned on the desk and crossed his arms, one of which was still bandaged. “You haven’t been talking to anyone over the last month.”

Harry could tell he was choosing his words carefully, afraid he’d set off a time bomb. He was probably right, Harry gathered.

“Is it against the rules, sir?” he said sadly, looking down at his hands. _A murderer’s hands,_ he corrected.

“Not particularly, but you know what I mean,” Robards said, pursing his lips. “Harry, you look half a corpse out there and you almost always arrive two hours late without a word.”

Ashamed, Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. _His fault, murderer._

“I just... can’t deal with the others looking at me like that,” he explained, his lower lip quivering slightly.

“Like what?” Robards asked, not unkindly.

“With _pity_ ,” Harry almost spat the word, angry at the world for being so cruel, angry at Malfoy for being who he was, angry at himself.

“I thought I would be thrilled to have my wife back,” he continued when Robards said nothing. “I am, but I just can’t ignore the fact that someone else paid the price for me... again.”

“I know how you feel, Harry,” Robards said, looking down as well. Harry didn’t even have the energy to tell him that _no, he didn’t know how he felt._ “Losing Abby to that freak, and then the baby... I can’t imagine how you’re even holding up.”

An awkward silence settled over them then, stretching for several minutes as both men mulled over the events of the last month.

“Would you like some tea?” The older man gestured to a teapot on his desk.

Harry shook his head slowly and finally looked up at his boss. He knew Robards at least deserved that much.

“I have to get out,” he said simply.

“Get out?” Robards asked, confused.

“I can’t be an Auror anymore,” Harry said, barely above a whisper. “I thought that by becoming an Auror I’d be able to keep the peace me and my friends fought for in the war, but it just seems that I attract more violence than I can stop.”

Robards regarded him sadly, and Harry knew he understood. Just like Dumbledore had understood him after his fourth year.

“Very well,” Robards said, surprising even himself.

“Thank you, sir.”

“If I may ask, what will you do next?”

Harry sighed, shrugging. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and the smallest of smiled returned to his face. “Well, I do still have that offer from McGonagall to teach Defence at Hogwarts, should I choose to.”

Robards smiled as well. “Is that what you want?” he asked, not unkindly.

Harry thought back on his time as a teacher, both during his fifth year with Dumbledore’s Army and the year after the war. Looking back, those were some of his best memories of Hogwarts, he realised. His thirst for completion had appeared to be quenched while he was shaping the minds of young witches and wizards who would one day shape the Wizarding World. Thinking of Mary Windsor, he smiled.

“It is, sir.”

“Then, I can’t stop you,” Robards said, trying to not let his disappointment show. “I hope you find peace, Harry. Merlin knows you’ve earned it.”

The black-haired man chuckled once more, realising just how often he’d heard that phrase in the last three years. They shook hands and Harry stood up, finally with a purpose, and headed toward the door. As he reached for the knob, Robards called from his seat. “Hey, Harry?”

He turned on the spot and raised an eyebrow, expectant.

“Everything okay at home?” he asked, letting just a tinge of concern slip into his tone.

Harry Potter smiled, thinking of his wife and ward, probably waiting for him in his home. “Yes, sir,” he said, nodding.

“ _All is well._ ”


End file.
